#abby's silly side projects

[wellspringrpg]

After several weeks of sitting in the drafts folder, Cephalopod Squad is finally complete! Cephalopod Squad is a silly hack of Grant Howitt’s Honey Heist about playing as heroic squid children. Which definitely has zero relation to the very popular third person shooter franchise by a certain C&D-happy video game company.

You can get the PDF version of Cephalopod Squad for free on the Mirage Company’s itch.io page now.

[hastyprovocateur]

Pine Soap (Modern!Abby × Reader)

Summary- Abby and reader hop in for a quick shower

Word count-1.5k

Cw- sexual content, mature themes, fluff

• The tap water runs tepid as you twist the faucet on, letting its steady stream run over your hand. It nearly lulled you back to the cozy bed you just got out of. You force your eyes open, sleepy fingers wiggling for your brush. It sat next to Abby’s in the ceramic container embossed with both your initials. A silly couples project you did as housewarming. It stood now as a hearty reminder of how it all fell together, holding a red brush and a blue one.

• You smile at the letters, dousing your brush with toothpaste before jamming it in your mouth. The morning sun streamed through the bathroom sky light, bathing the whole tiled space in a halo-like glow. You rinse yourself, peering into the mirror. You pull the neck of your robe aside to assess the fresh hickey on your neck as the sharp spray of the shower water came on in the back.

• Abby had monopolised the stall after her workout, the frosted partition exposing her beautiful body as steam rose out the top. It was all too tempting. You sidle up to the door, knocking on it to garner her attention. She notices, giving you a small wave from behind. You waved back, placing your open palm against the glass. She mirrors you, placing her hand right against yours. Eventually, she slid the partition open.

• “God, you’re naked” you squeal as she tries to grab you, wet hands firm around your sleeve. She draws you back, nuzzling into your neck amid protests. “You’re soaking my robe!” you complain half-heartedly as she cocoons you in her big arms, leaving damp patches everywhere. “Then take it off” she mumbles like a scolded child into the top of your hair, loosening the knot you had tied before. You pull away to look back at her with chagrin, but it was hard to stay mad. Her honey-colored hair had turned dark, sticking to the sides of her face, neck, and down her back. Water beaded on her lashes, the tip of her nose and chin.

• You huff in reprimand as Abby chuckled, giving you a once over with her arm slung on your waist. Closing the space between your bodies. “Don’t look at me like that” her smile fades, leaning down to slowly push the robe down your shoulder, pressing her damp lips against your smooth shoulder, making you flinch. You gently grab her neck, pushing her away as she returned to that same spot she abused last night. You wince softly from the dull ache below the skin. “I did that?” Abby exhaled, circling the tip of her tongue around the bruise.

• You shiver, pulling your shoulder to your chin as you raise your hands up against her chest. “Shower with me” Abby urged, voice next to a whine. “You get rough…” you object softly, but she shakes her head firmly, bowing her head to meet your eyes “I’ll be good” she assures you. You close your eyes, feeling the wetness reach your skin through the thin fabric, finally relenting. Abby watched as the silk unsheathes your curves, puddling on the tiles, along with your underwear. She drew you in with a firm hand on the small of your back.

• The warmth made you nearly slump into her, resting your head on her chest as the hot water ran down your back, soaking your hair. Abby held your face, pushing her hands back into your scalp and cradling the crown of your head as you hooked your arms around her shoulders to keep from buckling. “Is that right?” she laughed, watching you sway against her. You smile “It’s perfect” pressing the side of your face into her collarbone. The pumping of her heart spelled home, reverberating through your body.

The safest you could ever feel.

• Abby kissed the top of your head, slowly collecting your hair at the side of your neck, nuzzling the side of her face against yours. Her hands trail down your spine, resting at your waist. She folded you within herself, lifting you up and inhaling the scent of your body deep into her senses. The sun seemed to follow you into the bath, turning your bodies gold as it washed over you in dapples and streaks. You peer up at Abby’s face, chin pinned to her chest. At her eyes. One deep in the shadow, one baby blue from the light.

• Bubbles slipped through your fingers as you lathered her waist-length, blonde hair with bath gel, the soapy suds swirling in her strands. Its pine scent wove itself into the rising steam, smelling sweet to the nose and bitter on the tongue. You reached behind her neck, combing your fingers in gentle circles at the back of her scalp. Abby craned low to press the tip of her nose to yours, kissing your cheek. Her hands swept up your butt, rubbing across your hips and up your back, holding you tighter. The creamy foam oozed, rolling down your curves.

• “Ow” Abby winced, causing you to panic and check her eyes for soap. She wheezed, getting a kick out of rousing you for nothing. You smack the side of her shoulder, pouting as she pulled you back under the water, rinsing you off. You rest your arms on Abby’s shoulders, raising your eyes up at her as she stares back, lips parting as she tilts her face to kiss you. The water rinses you, enveloping you like warm sheets. You pull back to breathe only to get drawn back in, her arms encircling your waist like fetters. You whimper in her embrace, dragging your leg up her side. Feeling faint. Exhilarated.

• You slip down her front, hands latching onto her breast and her hip as you fell to your knees. Abby stroked your head, gently pinning your wet hair back as you kissed her folds, closing your eyes at the familiar taste, the hue and touch of it known to you like the back of your hand. Hands curling around her butt, gripping her cheeks as you relished her, forcing yourself into her deep and firm.

• Abby gulped; breath jagged as her knees quivered ever so slightly. Her pleasure was no secret to you. You applied your tongue relentlessly, your chin and lips soaked with her arousal. Eventually, you felt her squeeze, finishing in your mouth, flooding the insides of her thighs. Abby flushed pink, cheeks aglow both with the orgasm and the hot water. “That good?” you cock your chin with a grin, embarrassing her.

• A gasp escapes your lips as she yanked you back up, your knees turning red. She flipped you against her body, back pressed against her front as she reached around. “Baby… ” you hold her arm as she ventures between your thighs, her fingers into your depth, burrowing deep in that soft, sweet place. Her other arm wraps around your breasts, squeezing them. You buckle at the hips, heels lifting off the ground as you throw yourself back into her, feeling every muscle flex as she had her way with you.

• “That good?” Abby teased you back, her fingers sliding in and out of you. You feel the shape of them against your walls, curling slowly to reach that place within. A physical reminder that you knew her inside out as she did too. It made you teeter on your toes as you dug your fingers into her arm to steady yourself, leaving red marks. You screw your eyes shut, feeling her lips finding your neck, your weakness. Her lips dragged across the older hickey, finding home for a new one.

• “Aaah” it burnt in the most pleasurable way possible, driving you all the way through. Abby’s hips melded into you; nipples erect against your shoulder blades as she used your writhing body to massage herself. Her groans blow down your neck, raising your hair on end. You clench your legs close, stiffly working yourself onto her fingers.

You finish pathetically, head rolling weakly on her chest as she held you still. It rose and fell at the pace of yours. You watch as Abby twisted the shower knob close with one hand, holding you in the other. “Let’s dry you up” she fervently kissed the side of your face, pulling her towel from the bar and shrouding you in it.

• You peer into the bathroom mirror, clothed in fresh underwear with your hair still damp. “Dammit” you groan as the fresh, red hickey on your neck next to the old one. You look down at your knees, finding two oval red patches on the caps “I told you!” you point to them incredulously, turning around to complain.

• Abby stopped mid-swipe as she put on deodorant, smirking at you “I mean… look at us” she shrugged, exposed aside from the towel around her waist, damp hair flowing down her back. Abby's arms, shoulders, chest, and hips were peppered with your hand marks “Can’t do much about it” she smiled. “Wow…” you trail with your hands on your hips, exhaling in defeat before walking out. Abby piped after you. Joyful as ever.

“if you can’t hide em, own em, baby!”

[fishnchip3011]

rowan refs + some older art of him!

He can look intimidating & brooding cuz lean+tall+tattoos but he's just a silly billy guy... a nice polite boy u could introduce to ur parents 💓

he attended art school against his parents' will and took on several part time jobs to pay off his tuition, but after graduating he struggled to make ends meet with his degree so he had to get a job at joja.

he tried to fund his art passions on the side, but u know the thing about corporate jobs... they suck the life outta u. so he made a break for the valley LOL

he dabbles mostly in pottery and hands-on art forms like sculpting woodcutting etc. ^__^ he has a room in his house designated for his art stuff! now that he's self sufficient he can finally commission robin to build him a kiln.....🙏🙏🙏

he's kinda ditzy, looooves fishing (cuz I ♡ fishing ingame), likes cooking (inherited tha family recipes) and he's ass at videogames (cuz I flopped abby's 2 heart event). he's clumsy but when he's focused on a project he's reaaaallly careful n good with his hands!

his certified #bffie is haley and he's good friends with leah robin & emily.....he's one of the girlies!!!!!

& a fun fact: he got all his tattoos done by a friend from college that now owns a tattoo parlor in zuzu city ^0^

[charcuteriecrab]

Introduction !!

Hello, I'm Abby (CharcuterieCrab), a 20-year-old college student with ADHD and autism studying neuroscience, and in my free time, I write silly gay fanfics. I like to crochet Pokemon, play video games, and hang with my cat, Rosemary. I'm more of a writer than an artist, but I occasionally digitally paint landscapes!

Side blog: @charcuterie-art

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, and Whump are my favorite things to read/write <3

AO3 Link:

-----------------------------------

Links to my fanfiction:

Star Trek

The Musketeers (2013)

The Mandalorian

The Owl House

The Stanley Parable

Resident Evil | Biohazard

--------------------------

And if you like my writing, feel free to support me on ko-fi!

Here's a photo of my cat for funzies

[nota1eks]

masterlist of all my fics!

im notaleks on ao3. but here's all my fics in goddamned order (best to worst in my opinion)! also with so, so many links so you can get to the places :))

PROJECT HAIL MARY (21 fics)

SERIES: 434,000 hours

The Elimination Project -- Rocky's POV of the trip to Tau Ceti (then his arrival back on Erid)

And if I make it through / It's all because of you -- sequel to TEP / Rocky and Grace's return and settling on Erid; Adrian POV

OTHER

5 times people thought Grace and Stratt were "engaged in sexual congress" + 1 time they didn't! -- 5x fic, just what it sound slik e(but really 4x bc we saw one in the book

and so on -- the days following the explosion at baikonur, all the way up to coma time; Ilyukhina POV

off-brand trolley problem -- the unseen meeting wherein The Scientists have to decide whether or not to kill grace

everybody's got a plan until you're punched in the face -- (by Sherbet42 and myself!) (AU wherein Yao & Ilyukhina survive) the hail mary crew argue over whether or not to go save rocky. someone gets punched

untitled stratt fic (or, stratt slaying) -- after grace has been kidnapped off to launch, stratt goes through some of grace's items

You shut your mouth, how can you say I go about things the wrong way? -- good ol ryland grace has a mental breakdown after having had published his paper on water & life (and getting fired)

EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HISTORY: 1 ng of astrophage VS 1 mg of astrophage!!! -- dubois and shapiro do a bit of science before launch. it’s an edge case they’re testing, but it’s better safe and tested than sorry later…right? right?? / or: the test that gets dubois and shapiro killed.

Just The Two of Us: You and I -- one-shot collection of grace & rocky being The Best Duo

Eva Stratt, Praetor Maximus -- scientists and stratt being a little silly. really just self-indulgent because i wanted to write about the earth crew :)

a dream of water -- grace has a lil breakdown on erid 'cause he's lonely and sad and has scurvy

Get Back to Where You Once Belonged -- AU wherein grace was able to ge tback to earth. i wrote this a LONG time ago so it's not very good.

all-nighting -- grace works too much, for his lack of having a life. stratt, concerned for the safety of everyone on stratt's vat (and grace's, tbh), intervenes

alone no longer -- grace and rocky discuss romantic, sexual, & platonic attraction. grace is sure something is wrong with him -- he has never felt romantic nor sexual attraction. rocky thinks otherwise.

pandaemonium: a discord chatfic -- THE CREW GET A DISCORD? IT GETS GOT? / *I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE THIS. / **wanting to try a new type of CSS 🤝 the 3am flavour of phm brainrot

it's hot and we rot in this oven... -- a day in the life of a worker on the sahara, assembling/laying down blackpanels

Rocky T. Cowboy (I AM SO SORRY) -- (deep breath...) rocky as a cowboy. i'm not sure either. it's crack, ok?

Whumptober day 7: Radio Silence -- After the launch of the Hail Mary, Stratt gets got and, while her imprisoner-state is being decided, a solo faction keeps her in a box

happy new years! -- a little baby new year's fic about grace, stratt, and dubois hanging out :)

settle down, class. -- abby et al's perspective of grace booking the hell out of class. written simply to get me out of a writing slump.

PETER CLINES' WORKS (3 fics)

Are We Even? (Paradox Bound fic) -- Harry and Eli thought that their journeying would be easy. fun, even. That is, until a man shows up, robs Harry, and threatens Eli. Then thee two travellers must come to a consensus in their argument -- however one-sided it may be.

bad things happen to the people you love (Koturoverse AKA Threshold Universe fic) -- post-terminus shits and giggles. also AU where aleks (not me, i'm on about aleksander koturovic) lives bc he's great and so silly

praying or surrendering (neither will help anyway) (Koturoverse fic) -- koturovic does have the key to the cuffs and repays a debt by helping murdoch inside.

BODIES (NETFLIX SHOW) (1 fic)

haunted by longing -- Alfred is sooo gay but he has sooo much internalized homophobia but we love a good moral dilemma in this household

MISC (2 fics)

je te souris, tu me surprends (et j'aurais voulu te plaire encore) -- 2024 olympics fic

and if they're beside me, i know i need never care -- 2024 olympics fic

[wiseabsol]

Alright, you all have spoken! The old fanfics will be reposted, with the one-shots being posted separately (I may make exceptions for the very short pieces and ones set in the universe of longer stories) and the silly commentary tracks for TPRS being intact. I hope you all are ready for some early 2000s purple prose, angst, and melodrama, because that is what you'll be getting!

I'll probably start this reposting? reconstruction? project this summer, since I think I want to reread these things as I go to catch any obvious grammar/spelling errors or offensive shit that Baby Abby didn't think about at the time. The latter because the goal here is to let you all enjoy the ridiculousness, not to feel unsafe/excluded by the reading experience. So these won't exactly match the original versions, but should be close enough that you won't notice any differences unless you downloaded the pdfs and are looking at them side-by-side.

I might also throw in some extras while I'm at it. ;)

Thank you all for indulging me with these polls! I appreciate it!

[lampmeeting]

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

--

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

--

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

--

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

[jackiearbs]

things that are slept on in simon vs the homosapiens agenda // leah on the offbeat by becky albertalli

1. bram and garrett’s friendship.

“greenfeld made me see it three times.” (when garrett supported bram’s crush on simon)

the scene in svtha when leah leaves the lunch table and simon thinks bram has a crush on leah but it’s garrett (the FORESHADOWING)

when bram starts inviting leah places to get garrett closer to her

the way that theyre always together

the way they are best friends whipped for another set of best friends

⬆️ “EYES ON THE BALL, GREENFELD” when bram was hardcore GRINNING at simon when he’s in the middle of a soccer game and garrett was doing the same thing to leah

⬆️they are both so gone

the way they both definitely gush to eachother about their crushes

when bram wants to get to school early to see the show and garrett says “greenfeld just wants to get a good view of his boyfriend’s ass” and bram did NOT disagree with him

the way bram probably realized he’s gonna have to deal with a heartbroken garrett when he saw abby and leah but supported them nonetheless

2. cal and nora’s relationship

the way we were served with their cute lil hug idk it warms my heart🥺

when leah said cal has a type because he liked both simon and nora KDJDLSH

3. bram in GENERAL

like the boy is so hopelessly in love with simon and we are not talking about it

the promposal ¿? like the lengths he went to ask his ALREADY boyfriend to the prom

the way he didn’t mind simon going to the college he loved

the way he is always asking about simon

the way he immediately recognized simon’s fanfiction when leah and abby couldn’t find it

no one ever talks about the pining. like he liked simon for so much longer than simon liked him and it was probably so painful for him

the way he was only shy around simon (that’s why it’s so weird to have so much dialogue from him in leah, i was kinda thrown off that he wasn’t overall shy)

the way he was turned all the way around to watch the door at the talent show to see when simon was coming

the way that he’s an actual jock. like sometimes i forget that he dresses like a girl during halloween with the other varsity players and is very very athletic and does silly dances with his team

the way that he went to see simon three times in the play before he even confessed

the way he bought a shirt of simons favorite band and gave it to him with a note and his number in it, the hopeless romantic

the way he’s entranced by a single text message from simon, let alone anything else

the way he was so quick to support abby and leah and leaving his (asshole) teammate in the dirt

the way he’s so quick to pick up how simon writes and how he talks

the way he leaves a seat for simon whenever they’re together in a group

the way he flinched when abby said something about black people getting treated worse, like he knows

4. all of the hidden clues that were written in the books

in svtha, leah’s hatred for abby (which was projected towards simon in the end) was not actual hatred. according to the leah timeline, she still had a crush on her.

in leah on the offbeat, abby’s cousins were briefly mentioned. in the next book, they are the main characters.

in svtha, albertalli made it known that whenever the group was together, the only person simon would ever describe was bram, even if bram was already introduced to the reader. in literally every situation (everytime he called bram cute and then said he was cheating on bram i would literally scream at the book like “he is blue, dumb bitch!”) bram was the only person described in detail of more than a sentence

the way leah stood up to abby, before even realizing she had a crush on her, to her lifelong best friend and not talking to her anymore

the way abby didn’t even break up with nick because of the long-distance, she just broke up with him because she liked leah

⬆️the way that leah knew that too. she knew that they weren’t the perfect couple

5. this isn’t really slept on, but the side plot of simon and bram in leah on the offbeat

the way bram is always planning to do something for simon

simon being too afraid to talk to him about college after what happened to nick and abby

the way bram assured him that they’ll be okay and made plans so that they didn’t feel too far apart

the way that they’ve been dating for over a year at the end of leah and they kept making each other smile over sweet little nothings and how they’re so in love

the way they are holding each other at the end of the prom scene

the dumbass gays™️ finding the dumbass bisexuals and simon being shell shocked when bram was shocked but not surprised

the way they are both described when they receive texts from each other (like they become completely detached from the world around them)

dumbass gays™️ smiling at each other when they’re doing something

the way simon becomes so focused on bram when they’re doing something in a crowd and vise versa

6. abby’s feelings. this is a big one

yes, a lot of the plot was how she was feeling after her and nick’s breakup but it was always about leah when they were fighting and never abby

she was always the support and it was never taken into consideration that leah fucked up too. it annoyed me honestly

like during every fight they had it was just leah yelling at her and abby just apologizing and still never getting it right

like leah was always the one to storm off, abby always stayed

abby literally came out to leah and leah was too selfish to even consider her

(they were so cute by the end though, they became so unproblematic)

the way abby’s feelings were never taken into consideration when leah would storm off on her (i know it was literally narrated by leah but you know)

⬆️the way she felt like she had to be perfect played into that because she never wanted to show herself being upset about something

bram and simon are my favorites, can you tell?

[detectivecarlosreyes]

In Case of Emergency (Ch 10/10)

Ao3 | 2.9/21.4k | Buddie | Status: Complete

Prev. Chapter 

Chapter 10: What’s Next: The Epilogue  Eddie and Christopher have a plan to ask Buck to move in, Buck gets his closure and Chris goes to camp. Set in the end piece of 3x18: What's Next.

As with all the other micro steps they had taken in the relationship up until this point, each one had to be approved first by Chris, because Eddie never wanted to overstep his son’s comfort, and this was no different.

“Bud, would you be okay with me asking Buck to move in with us?”

“Isn’t he already living with us?”

“Kind of, I know he stays over a few nights a week at the moment, but this will be a little different. It’ll mean he won’t have his apartment anymore and will live with us all the time instead.”

With understanding now shining in his eyes, Christopher was on board with the idea immediately bouncing in his seat, “Ohhhhh, okay!”

“So that’s a yes? You’re okay with him moving in?”

“You asked me ages ago if it was okay if he could stay over sometimes. It will be better with him here all the time.” And then he added, as sassily as a 9-year-old could, “Besides, I like it when he’s here, Bucky is a better cook than you.”

“Oh, so we’re being cheeky now, are we?” Unable to let the slander stand he descended upon Chris with a grin and attacked him with tickles, leaving peals of laughter echoing throughout the house in its wake.

Eventually, when the giggles subsided, he told Chris his plan and left him with the important job to decorate the small cardboard box that he bought the other day that they would present Buck’s house key in and make it official.

Now he just had one more thing to do before everything was in place.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

In some ways, Buck had felt like he was still reeling from that moment he first saw Abby after all that time apart. Even now, it seemed as if after finally getting that long overdue sit down with her, that it didn’t seem like it was enough, maybe nothing they said ever would be.

Sure, he was glad to see her happy and had found herself again while she travelled, he could never begrudge her of that after the years she had with her mother. It just would have been nice to get some communication about where she was at wit the relationship. If she had been honest about it when she knew she wasn’t coming back anytime soon he would have been fine with it, because at least then he wouldn’t have felt so strung along, feeling like him waiting wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t worth coming back to.

The fact that though she was sorry for the way he found out about it all, she didn’t actually apologise for how their relationship ended; or more specifically by not actually explicitly giving him the courtesy of breaking up with him. Despite not wanting to harbour any grudges over it he knows it will probably always leave a bitterness to the relationship.

It wasn’t until after he walked away, leaving her on the park bench did he realise why the conversation left him lacking. His part in the relationship was never an important factor to her, not once in her explanation did she seem to consider what she did would affect anyone else but herself. And really, that was the crux of the relationship, it had revolved around her and her needs leaving the relationship unbalanced.

Eddie was right though. Seeing her again, getting that closure, it was something that he needed to finally tie up that frayed, loose end and allowed him to close the book on the chapter in his life once and for all, no longer questioning what went wrong.

It made him realise how lucky he was now. Having found himself in the best relationship he’s ever been in. One that left him and Eddie as equals borne out of mutual love and respect of one another that didn’t leave one more important than the other. They were partners in more ways than one, feeding off each other and becoming each other’s anchors.

As he walked away with Eddie on his mind as he left, he sent him a quick text saying he was going to stop at their favourite bakery and picking up their usual on his way home.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, Buck breathed a sigh of relief, happy to put the day behind him and just be with Chris and Eddie. Getting out of the car, with the bag of freshly baked goods in one hand and his keys in the other he makes his way to the door, fumbling to find the house key only to find it missing.

With a frown he knocked on the door, feeling silly not having his key on him. Eddie was quick to answer looking almost bemused by the circumstance and opened the door wide. Stepping inside, he touched a kiss to Eddie’s cheek as he passed.

“I think I lost my key? But I swear I had it yesterday, I-I can’t imagine how it could have fallen off the key ring.” He offered the explanation as to why he was knocking on the door, something he hadn’t done in some time.

“Don’t worry about it, we can just get another one cut,” Eddie responded lightly and Buck could hear Eddie’s footsteps following him after closing the door, trailing him to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” Eddie asked him gently, changing the subject as he placed his hand over his own still holding the bag of baked goods that he sat on the kitchen bench.  

He sighed another relieved sigh before smiling at him, comforted by his tact, “You were right. It didn’t go exactly how I thought it would, but I’m glad I saw her, I needed the closure.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you got what you needed.”

Before he could elaborate more on what else he realised from his meeting with Abby, the clatter of crutches interrupted them and Chris all but crashed into his side, wrapping his arms around his hips.

“Buck! You’re back!” Gasped Chris before turning to his dad excitedly, “Can we give it to him now?”

Buck looked between Chris and Eddie quizzically and only became more confused upon seeing Eddi’s face light up, seemingly unable to deny his son’s request. “Alright, we can give it to him now. Why don’t you go get it.”

“Okay!” And then he was gone, moving as swiftly as his crutches would allow back in the direction of his room.

He turned back to Eddie, feeling very much out of the loop, “Eddie? Mind telling me what’s going on?”

Annoyingly all the response he got in return was Eddie’s smiling eyes and him saying that he would just have to wait and see. Buck rolled his eyes and shook his head in amusement at Eddie’s answer but held his tongue in favour of waiting for whatever he was told wait for.

He didn’t have to wait long, with Chris re-entering the room at a hurried pace carrying a small blue box. Buck watched as Chris slowed to a stop in front of Eddie to which Eddie, bent over and whispered something in his son’s ear.

He knelt down when Chris turned back to him, much like when Chris gave him that card at his welcome back party at Athena and Bobby’s all those months ago.

“What’s that you got there, bud?”  

Chris just grinned his excitable goofy grin that Buck loves with all his heart and held out the box to him. Buck looked between Chris and the box outstretched in his grasp and took it delicately. Upon closer inspection of the box Chris had just handed him, Buck realised that it wasn’t just blue. It had been hand decorated with a blue marker around the sides, with the drawing of a house adorned on the lid.

With a sharp look between the two Diaz’s, he lifted the lid on the box to find a key resting on a pillow of white crepe paper that he knew was leftover from one of Chris’s class projects that he helped to construct. His key. The one that Chris insisted that they paint the thumb end of, so everyone knew whose key it was, was the same blue as the ring that he had attached to Eddie’s key to his own apartment.

“This is my key. I thought I lost it. What are you two up to?” He asked even though he was already putting the clues together, but he wanted a verbal confirmation of what this gift represented.

“Did you want to ask him Chris?” Eddie asked, moving to stand behind his son with his hands resting atop his shoulders, clearly as excited as Chris was about what was about to be asked.

“Bucky, will you move in with us? O-officially.”

Buck couldn’t stop the sting of happy tears prick at his eyes or keep the wide grin that threatened to split his face. “It would be my honour to move in with you.”

Opening his arms wide, he invited Chris for a hug who instantly fell into his chest wholeheartedly. Looking up over his head, Buck looked at Eddie’s glowing face and reached around Chris to take hold of his wrist to drag him down and make the hug and them complete.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Waking up the next morning, Buck revelled in the domesticity of the moment, sharing the bed with the man that he loves; In the place that he could confidently call home without any further hesitation even though in his mind he’d been calling it that for some time. Everything was perfect and felt so, so right. He knew that nothing had really changed considering that he had been practically living in the Diaz household but it felt different, there was a permanence to it now.

He watched as Eddie slumbered, a much more peaceful and restful version of the man than what he used to be when they first started sleeping in the same bed, no longer on high alert on their days off. Now, Eddie woke sluggishly uninhibited by expectation, knowing that there was no hurry to awaken while Buck was present beside him.

At some point, they left the comforts of the bed and migrated to the kitchen, where Chris would join them from the living room have been watching tv while he waited for them to wake. In the kitchen, he would begin preparing them a cooked breakfast, a common occurrence for when they have the luxury of having a morning together while Eddie moved around him to make the coffee.

With May’s graduation party in the afternoon, they eventually got dressed, doing their best not to dress too similarly but still end up deciding on the same colour scheme. And then, as with the last few gatherings they had been to, the three of them arrived together at the Grant-Nash household in Eddie’s truck.

And with that happiness that came with the day before, Buck found him celebrating and being even more affectionate and open than usual, riding on the excitable energy of everyone around him. Through it all he did eventually find himself seeking out Bobby, remembering what he said on the train and didn’t get the chance to address it in his office after the fact.

With the din of the music at their backs, he joined Bobby on the deck, hands in his pockets, “Hey, um, I just wanted to apologise, f- for the train.”

Bobby just waved away the apology with a shake of his head, “Look it’s alright, we both got a little hot. You doing okay?”

A grin took over at his face as he turned to Bobby, thinking about the previous day, “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Good.”

With his thoughts on Eddie and Chris, he corrected himself, “Actually, you know what? I know I am. I’m moving in with Eddie and Chris, they just asked me yesterday.”

“That’s great news Buck,” with that, Bobby offered his hand in congratulations before pulling him in for a hug. Buck sunk into it finding a parental comfort in the embrace and feeling like everything in his life was finally falling into place.  

** ** ** ** ** ** **

And so, with him now living with Diaz pair, it was time for him to start the process of ending the lease to his apartment. He had a month to pack his things and sell what furniture he would no longer need, which was most if not all of it.

Boxes were gradually transported between the two locations with Chris helping with the packing and unpacking of the small bits and pieces that he had which decorated the apartment. Chris became the deciding force of what he should keep, even if he didn’t think he needed to keep them and helped find a home for them in the house, wanting to make the space his as much as theirs.

They only had a couple of weeks with him though, before he set out for the long-awaited camp, leaving a card with the two of them as they saw him off, decorated in hearts and stating simply:

You are going to have a Great Time.

Love, Christopher.

Eventually, through their days off, they had the last of his clothes packed in a bag and the last box was sealed, with the last of the bigger items from the bedroom finally sold and ready to be picked up by the buyers in the following days.

“I can’t believe this is it,” Buck said, sitting on the floor of the now empty apartment, Eddie sitting across from him finishing sealing the box, having let himself into the apartment like always only a couple of hours ago with a new roll of packing tape.

With the box sealed, Eddie propped his elbow up on the box before him, resting his face in his hand with a soft smirk playing on his lips, “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

“Absolutely not. Never in a million years.” He breathed, finding himself staring love-struck into Eddie’s eyes. They sit like that for longer than was necessary, faces only a couple inches apart and bodies separated by the box between them.

Eventually, he broke the silence huffing a chuckle to himself, reminded of something Eddie once said.

“What?” Eddie asked good naturedly, a laugh bubbling on the words as he spoke.

Buck propped his head upon his hand, mirroring Eddie, “Are my eyes twinkling like the stars, Eds? Cause yours right now are shining like the sun, they do that when you’re happy, did you know?”

“Oh my god!” Groaned Eddie, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment, “That was so long ago, Buck! I can’t believe I said that, and honestly, I had I hoped you wouldn’t remember.”  

“How could I forget!” Buck quietly exclaimed, bemused by the flush creeping up Eddie’s neck and warming his face, “You were far too cute saying whatever you were thinking, Mr astronaut. I’m surprised that you remember though, you were still so far gone at that point.”

“Don’t remind me, that was still the weirdest hangover I’ve ever woken up to. Not to mention the fact that you not only took off my boots for me, but you also plugged in my phone, set an alarm and left a message explaining what happened.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to sleep the day away or wake up confused, let alone do it all while still wearing your boots in bed!”

“Even back then when I was just your friend from work, you cared that much,” Eddie mused, wonder in his eyes.

Buck shrugged bashfully, “I just did what anyone one would do.”

“The fact that you think that--” Eddie shook his head, “The way you care about people is just one of the things I love most about you.”

Eddie groaned as he stood up, stretching his legs before stepping around the box and reached down to him, “Now, come on, it’s time we finished up here and take these boxes home.”

With a soft smile on his lips, Buck placed his hands in Eddie’s and let him haul him to his feet. They took the last of the boxes home, leaving the apartment completely empty, and unpacked them, and 3 days later they were dropping their apartment keys off at the realtor, making it well and truly final.  

It was strange to think that all that time ago when they first gave each other their key that they would end up here. Using them rarely for that intended reason of it being an emergency key before their use quickly evolved into something more intimate. That the key to their home was no longer used for emergencies but became an extension to their hearts instead.

*

*

*

And to think that Buck marked the day that the Diaz’s asked him to move in and mirrored it exactly a year later using a similar box that they presented the key in, having re-commissioned Christopher to reprise his role of decorating another one. except this time, it didn’t have a key but a very special ring instead.

Buck barely got the question out before Eddie was already saying yes.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Blind Date

 

Note: just an idea I had, hope you like it. some soft fluffiness, but also smut bc I’m still h word for Jake, especially after how he looked tonight on tv.

Pairing: Jake Tapper x reader

 Warnings: smut, NSFW

 

(sorry for eventual typos, I wrote this in a bit of a frenzy)

enjoy

 

“You look horrible. “Abby stated matter-of-factly as she sat down in the restaurant chair across from you.

 “I missed you too, great to see you, thanks. “you responded, not even bothering to argue with her.

Abby was your best friend since college, if she said you looked horrible it was either a joke or a fact. Considering the way she was looking at you, probably the latter.

“Hard week at work?”

 You let out a tired huff.

“You have no idea. We got this new client who booked us for a nation-wide tv ad, and they’re so incredibly demanding. I’ve been working overtime for three weeks straight, it’s a miracle they didn’t call me in today.”

Your monthly Saturday brunch with Abby was sacred, work be damned.

Your friend was giving you a worried look across the table. “Well, I’m glad they didn’t, you deserve a day off.”

 “Enough of my sad life, how is it going over at Fake News?” you joked.

 “Amazing actually. You won’t believe it, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re thinking about offering me John’s Sunday spot on Inside Politics. Can you imagine, my own hour, as an actual anchor. It’s nothing official yet, but I’m so excited.”

 “Oh my god, Abby, that’s awesome. I’m so proud of you. We should celebrate.” you exclaimed, beckoning a waiter to order two glasses of champagne.

 Abby gave you a warm smile.
“Thank you, babe. But let me be honest, I’m worried about you. You look exhausted, even your voice sounds tired. When was the last time you did something actually relaxing?”

 “I’ve watched a movie, like, a week ago. And I do yoga, at least sometimes.” You tried to argue, not entirely sure if you wanted to convince Abby or yourself.

 A smirk settled over your friend’s face, and she looked at you like she just had the most brilliant idea ever. You did not like that look at all, it usually meant trouble.

 “Well todays your lucky day, because I know just what you need to de-stress a bit.”

 You just raised an eyebrow at her. 
“Care to elaborate, genius?”

 “You, my friend, need to get laid.”

You snorted. “Fun times, Abbs, you almost got me,”


“I’m serious, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?”

“Okay, it’s been a while, but I’m fine. I don’t need a man to interfere with the little free time I have. And it’s not like the streets are full of men chasing me. I don’t have time to date, and, like I said, I’m totally fine with the way things are at the moment.” You tried your very best not to sound defensive. 

The expression on Abby’s face told you everything you needed to know. She didn’t buy a single word coming out of your mouth.
“Y/N, trust me when I tell you, blowing off a little steam would do wonders for your stress level. And maybe you’d even meet someone nice. And, lucky for you, I know just the guy. He’s someone I work with, and I think you’d get along perfectly.”

 “You’re not actually suggesting setting me up on a blind date.” You couldn’t believe your friend. The last thing you needed was an evening full of awkward small talk with some boring, sleek CNN guy.

 “Come on, Y/N, take a leap of faith. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

+++

 (One week later)

 “I can’t believe I actually agreed.” You murmured to yourself as you rummaged through your closet, looking for an outfit to wear on that damned date Abby bullied you into.

You thought about the peaceful evening you could have had, curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, maybe getting some work done.

But it was too late to back down now.

 “Let’s just get this over with” you told yourself, applying some lipstick as if it was war paint. “Let’s hope that the guy is at least good-looking.”

 The restaurant Abby sent you to was nice enough, a small and intimate place, perfect for a date. You couldn’t wait to have your first glass of wine, because you could feel your nervousness increasing with each passing minute.

You entered the restaurant, looking for the third table on the window side that Abby had described to you…and directly turned around, practically fleeing through the door again as soon as you set eyes on the man sitting there.

 Back outside, you took your phone out of your bag and furiously dialed Abby’s number. She picked up right away, but you were shouting at her before she could even say a word.

“You better tell me that you did not set me up with Jake fucking Tapper.”

Was she out of her mind? This was the Jake Tapper, the face of CNN, hell, the face of the media in this country. What the fuck were you supposed to talk to him about.

But your friend just chuckled at you through the phone.
“When you saw him on TV some months ago, you said he was your type. Plus, he’s intelligent, funny, and single. Perfect for you. And now stop making a fool out of yourself and go in there. You got this, girl. Love you, bye.”
And with that, she hung up.

 You took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves. You could not just leave now, and stand up Mr. Breaking News himself. So you pocketed your phone again, squared your shoulders and went back into the restaurant.

You made your way over to the table, coming to a stop in front of it. The man sitting there looked up to you and smiled. And wow, what a beautiful smile it was, sincere, warm and inviting, taking over his entire face.

“Hi.” You said, trying to sound confident.

“I’m Y/N, Abby’s friend.”

 

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Jake. I’m working with Abby, but she probably already told you that much.”

“She did, but I’ll be honest, I know you, of course. Big fan of your show.”

God, why did you just say that. He was probably going to think you were some kind of crazy fangirl now.

 But he just continued to smile his open, friendly smile at you.
“Always happy to hear that.” He chuckled, pointing to the opposite chair. “Do you want to sit down?”

 “Yes, of course, sorry.” You said, feeling silly because you totally forgot that you were still standing. You quickly sat down and tried your best to appear calm and collected, even if your insides were in turmoil.

 “Would you care for some wine? They have a pretty impressive list, I could pick one for us if you don’t mind.” Jake asked.

 “Wine sounds fantastic. I love it, but I’m not really an expert, so go ahead.”

 Jake took some reading glasses out of the pocket of his suit jacket and put them on his nose. 
While he was studying the wine list, you took your time to study him instead. He appeared to be in his late forties, so there was an age difference of probably 15 to 20 years. You didn’t mind that at all, older men had always been more your type.

He had a really handsome face, kind eyes that looked even better when he had those glasses on, and you loved his salt-and-pepper hair. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt with a dark grey suit jacket. You caught your mind wandering to how he might look underneath his clothes and gave yourself a mental slap on the wrist. This was your first date, no need to get ahead of yourself.

“Everything alright over there?”

 Shit, he had caught you staring.

 “Yes, sorry, I zoned off for a moment. I had a stressful week at work.”

“Oh, yes, Abby told me you’re working in advertising. Any interesting projects at the moment?”

You went on and chatted about work a bit. You were fascinated by what he was doing, and taken aback by the confident, yet humble way he was talking about it. This was absolutely not the behavior you were expecting from the leading anchorman of the nations most renowned network. He wasn’t arrogant or self-centered at all and you were definitely charmed.

The wine Jake ordered arrived with your starters, and soon after you had your first few sips you felt some of the initial nervousness fading away.

Soon, the conversation was flowing freely, and you discovered that Abby was right, you really did get along perfectly. Jake was incredibly funny in a dry and witty way and his sarcastic remarks made you laugh more than once. You also discovered your shared interest in graphic novels and argued a while about weather DC or Marvel was the superior comic universe.

Jake showed you one of his own cartoons on his phone, and with each moment you found yourself more drawn to the man in front of you.
At some point his hand started to lightly brush against yours on the table, and each touch sent a warm feeling through your chest.

You talked some more over dessert, had some more wine and overall, a really good time.

The alcohol gave you a pleasant, fuzzy feeling, and the desire to just get up and crawl on Jakes lap grew with each look he gave you.

 “Excuse me, Ma’am, Sir, were closing up now.” A passing waiter told you and put the check on the table.

 “Let me take care of that, please.” Jake said, taking out his wallet. You just thanked him and enjoyed the view of him putting on his glasses again to read the check.

 He really was a perfect gentleman, you thought to yourself, as he got up to hold your coat and then the door for you on your way out.


“I really had a wonderful evening.” you said softly, as the both of you were standing on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Jake shot you another one of his brilliant smiles, and you could feel your heart beating faster.
“Me too.” He replied. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I’d like to see you again.”

Now your heart was almost jumping out of your chest, and you could feel your own smile taking over your face.
“I’d love that.”

 Jake took one step closer, now standing so close you could almost feel the warmth radiating off his body. One of his hands came up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, his thumb slowly stroking over your jaw. His touch sent goosebumps all over your skin, and you slightly parted your lips, looking him directly in the eyes. They were warm, and dark, and you felt like you could get lost in them. And then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your mouth.

It felt incredible, a kind of warmth that was totally unrelated to the wine spreading through your body, your skin prickling where his hand was still on your face.

You put your hands on his arms and kissed him back, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips against yours. He still tasted slightly like red wine, and you wanted nothing more than to explore the rest of his body with your mouth just as thoroughly.

 First date, you reminded yourself, and broke free from the kiss before your lust-clouded brain could make you do something you might regret later. You glanced up at Jake, who looked at you with an unreadable expression. Then, after what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

“Could I maybe have your number?”

 

“Of course.” You said, with maybe a bit much enthusiasm, but Jake didn’t seem to mind. You quickly typed your number into his phone, and just as you were finished, the cab you had called earlier was arriving.

Jake held the door open for you, and shot you one last, beautiful smile. “Good night, Y/N, get home safe.”

“Thank you for the wonderful evening, Jake. Good night.”

 You closed the door and the taxi drove off. You already missed his face as soon as he was out of sight, and you turned around to watch his receding figure through the rear window of the taxi.

Great, you were already down bad after one date. The man really got to you, and you desperately hoped that you would hear from him soon.

 As soon as you were home, you really felt the effects of the wine, so you quickly went to bed to get some sleep. Just before you were nodding off, you sent Abby a quick message.

 

You were right, he is perfect. THANKS xxxx

 

When Abby answered five minutes later, you were already asleep.

 Told you so ;) xxxx

+++

 When you woke up the next morning, there was a new message from an unknown number on your phone. Your heart made a flip in your chest, and you opened it as fast as you could.

 

Hi, this is Jake. It’s probably way too soon to text you, but I just wanted to let you know, again, what a great time I had yesterday. If you’d be up to it, I’d really like to see you again soon. Let me know if that would be alright with you. And have a nice Saturday :)

 

He had already texted you. That meant he didn’t think that you were crazy, or awkward, and that he wasn’t just acting nice, he genuinely wanted to see you again. You were filled with a giddy sort of happiness, and decided to answer him right away, there was no need to play any games here. Leap of faith, just like Abby said.

 

Good Morning Jake, I really enjoyed yesterday as well. I’d love to spend some more time together; would tomorrow evening be too spontaneous? I could make dinner, to return the favor since you paid yesterday ;) my place at eight?

 

As soon as you hit the send button you started getting anxious again. What if tomorrow was too soon? What if he thought you were being too eager?

“Stop it, Y/N!” you said out loud to interrupt your mental spiral. You wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself for this man, even if he was handsome, and intelligent, and funny. No way.

 But as you were standing in the kitchen five minutes later and heard your phone chiming from the other room, you were there in the matter of seconds to read the new message.

 

Tomorrow sounds perfect, just text me the address. I’ll bring the wine. xx Jake

 

You clutched your phone to your chest, the biggest, goofy smile on your face.

 You spent the remaining day extensively cleaning your flat, stressing out, going grocery shopping and stressing out some more. You face-timed Abby and bullied her into helping you pick out an outfit, since she technically was the one who got you into this mess in the first place.

Jake was occupying your mind whatever you did, and when you finally got into your bed that night, all you could think about was how his lips had felt against yours. Those thoughts sent a hot, burning feeling down between your legs and when you finally touched your pussy, you were already so wet and aroused that it only took you minutes until you reached your peak, Jakes name falling from your lips.

+++

To say you were a nervous wreck the next day would be an understatement. When you woke up, you decided to watch some TV to get yourself a bit of distraction. An ad was currently playing, and so you decided to check your mails first.

 

“Good Morning from Washington, where the State of our Union is in turmoil over the latest…”

 

Your head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice coming from your TV, the voice that occupied your mind ever since your blind date on Friday. You had totally forgotten that Sunday morning meant Jake Tapper time on CNN, because usually you were either asleep or at work at 9 am. But now you took your time to really appreciate the man on your TV.

He looked way more serious than the Jake you got to know, no smile, just a stern expression and a dark suit and tie. Which didn’t mean that he wasn’t looking totally hot, and his intelligent and sharp remarks did nothing to calm your fluttering heart or the heat in your lower abdomen. You definitely wanted him, bad.


This is getting ridiculous, you thought to yourself, and turned the TV off to take a very long shower.

Afterwards, you spent the whole day pacing around your flat and annoying Abby with numerous text messages and another two face time calls. She assured you multiple times that everything would be just fine and by the time it was 7:45 p.m. the food was in the oven and you sat on your couch, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

When it finally did, you all but ran to the door only to stop and force yourself to take a couple of calming breaths before opening it. Jake stood outside, a bottle of red wine in his hand. He looked amazing with his white dress shirt and dark grey slacks, but again it was his smile that got your attention, he looked just as happy to see you as you were feeling.

Out of a sudden impulse, you surged forward and threw your arms around the man, hugging him and burying your head in his chest. He seemed surprised, but still put his free arm around you, embracing you.

“Hi.” You whispered, suddenly shy, but as you looked up to meet Jakes eyes you could see nothing but warmth in them. “Hi.” He replied, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s good to see you.”

 You slowly let go of him so he could actually enter your apartment. He followed you inside and you fetched some glasses for the wine. You talked about everything and anything over dinner, family, football, the book Jake was working on. You listened closely, and so did he as you told him about your passion for art and music. He even asked you to put some of your favorite records on as you moved over to the couch after dinner.

You were still talking animatedly but having Jake in closer physical proximity made it increasingly hard to focus on what he was saying.

Instead, your eyes and mind wandered to his hands. Without thinking, you reached out and put one of your hands into his, He stopped speaking, and looked at you. You could see the kind look in his eyes being replaced by something darker, more passionate.

 He spoke again, voice lower this time. “I’ve been thinking about you and our kiss without a break since yesterday. And just as long I’ve wanted to kiss you again, touch you again.”

He reached out, cupped your jaw with one of his hands and slowly ran his thumb over your bottom lip. It took every willpower you had not to suck his thumb into your mouth. This man had you hot and aching for him with just a single touch and a couple of words.

“Is that something you want me to do, Y/L?” his voice was only a low rumble now.

 

“Oh my god yes. Yes please.” You whispered, not really trusting your own voice to come out steady enough. 
The hand on your face slid to the back of your head and you uttered a surprised gasp as Jake just grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled you close, until your faces were only inches apart.

“You are beautiful.” He said, looking you deep in the eyes.

And then he kissed you again. And as soon as his mouth connected with yours, you realized just how much you had missed the feeling of his lips, the warmth of his body. But that was where the resemblance to the kiss you shared last night ended. Because this one was more.

More passion, more lust. Jake softly bit your bottom lip and used your surprised gasp as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. The kiss deepened and you could feel small sparks of arousal all over your body with every touch of tongue and every time he lightly tugged on the hair in the nape of your neck.

Your hands found their way around Jakes shoulders, roaming up and down his back. You were really glad he was not wearing his full State Of The Union Outfit, even if it had looked extremely hot, because as soon as you could feel the solid muscle through his thin dress shirt, you knew that those clothes had to come off at some point.

You lightly tugged on the hem of his shirt to pull it out of his pants and spread your hands over the warm skin underneath. Jake broke the kiss as soon as he could feel what you did, just to tilt back your head and kiss your exposed neck.

You couldn’t stifle a moan as he lightly sucked on your pulse point.

The feeling of his mouth on your skin made heat coil between your legs, and you tried to shift even closer to him, until you were almost sitting on his lap.

Jake continued to kiss your neck, while his other hand crept under your shirt to palm your breast through your bra. He lightly squeezed it and you moaned again, you nails raking softly over his back, making him groan against your skin.

“You like that?” he asked, and pinched one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, and you could feel your panties getting soaked with arousal.

You decided that it was time to get rid of some clothing and started to quickly unbutton Jakes dress shirt, revealing more and more skin with each button undone. As soon as you were finished, he pulled the shirt of his shoulders and the view of his body made your mouth water. You ran your hands over his muscled chest, and you could see the way his eyes darkened again.

“I can’t wait to touch you everywhere.” He said in a husky voice and pulled your shirt over your head in a swift motion, and instantly his lips were on yours again, his hands roaming over your back, unclasping your bra. When your nipples came in contact with the skin of his chest, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore.

“Jake, please. Touch me, kiss me, anything. I need to feel you.” You pleaded, your voice slightly breathless.

 

“Take the rest of your clothes off, now.” Jake said, his commanding tone sending another surge of wetness between your legs.

 You got up from the sofa and stood in front of Jake. Slowly, you opened the zipper of your jeans and pulled them down, leaving you only in your black lace panties.

Jake was watching you, his intense stare burning on your skin.

“Everything. Off.” He said, never breaking eye contact.

Having the undivided attention of this man was so hot, you almost got lightheaded.

You slowly dragged your underwear down your legs, and as you were looking up again, you saw that Jake was palming the bulge that had begun to form in his pants. You wanted to touch him so bad.

“You are gorgeous. Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.” Jake said, taking in the sight of your naked body. His voice was strained, this was clearly affecting him.

A light flush was beginning to form on your skin, you weren’t sure if it was because of arousal or embarrassment, but you definitely knew that you needed Jake to get his hands on your body, now.

You made your way over to him again and leaned down to open the fly of his trousers. His briefs were already tented by his erection, and you palmed him through his underwear, making him groan.

“Those need to come off.” You whispered, smiling at Jake, who just nodded and lifted his pelvis so you could pull down his trousers along with his underwear.

Finally, he was naked in front of you. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you down on the sofa, lying on top of you. The feeling of his warm skin against yours was thrilling, you tried to get your hands on every part of his body you could reach, stroking his back, pulling his hair. Finally, you wrapped your hand around the base of his hard cock, giving it some light strokes.

“You feel so good, Y/N, I’ve been thinking about doing this since I first laid my eyes on you. I’ve been in a state since we kissed, and now” he whispered against your neck „I can’t wait to finally have that sweet pussy of yours.”

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of Jakes mouth, hearing him say filthy things like that was turning you on more than you could’ve ever imagined. Obviously, your thoughts were written all over your face.

“You like it when I talk like that, don’t you, sweetheart.” He said, pinching one of your nipples as he did.

“I…Oh shit, yes, yes I do. Please.” You whimpered, almost going you crazy with the need to finally feel him. 

He had mercy on you, reaching out between your legs. When he touched your pussy for the first time, you felt like the pent-up tension could make you faint any moment.
“God, you’re so wet, Y/N.” He thrust two of his long fingers into you without warning, and you almost screamed.
“And so tight.”

“I need you, please Jake, fuck me.” You were begging now, way beyond caring about any sort of decorum as his digits touched that sweet spot inside of you again and again.

 He withdrew his fingers and shifted on top of you before he put his hands on your tights, spreading your legs. You couldn’t even begin to complain about the loss of his fingers, he was already lining up his cock with your entrance, and pushed in, slowly, filling you inch by inch until he bottomed out with a deep groan. His length stretched you in the most delicious way, and you cried out as he was starting to thrust in and out of you, leaving you almost no time to adjust to his size.

You couldn’t talk coherently anymore, you were just chanting his name over and over as he was fucking you into the sofa. Your nails clawed into his back as he was leaning over you, his hair falling into his face. Just as you thought you couldn’t feel any more pleasure, he grabbed one of your legs and probed it onto his shoulder, the new angle making you see stars with every move of his hips.

“You feel incredible, so tight and warm around me, you are amazing.” He looked down on you, taking in your face, squinted with pleasure, his name falling from your lips over and over again.

He reached between your legs and started rubbing your clit, never slowing down his relentless, hard thrusts. The combined stimulation was almost too much for you and your orgasm was approaching fast.

“Don’t stop, please, just don’t stop.” You cried out, the pleasure running through your body like a wildfire.

“Look at me when you come, I want to see you. Look at me!” Jake growled, breathing hard as he sped up even more.

You hit your peak with a cry, sparks dancing over your skin as your walls clenched around Jakes cock. Your eyes were fixed on his, and he looked at you like you were the only person on the entire planet.

Seeing you come undone beneath him, Jake only lasted for another few deep thrusts before he came, shouting your name and spilling his hot release inside of you.

 He laid on top of you afterwards, his face on your shoulder, breathing deeply. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and he turned his head to look at you.

“Hi” you said.

“Hi” he replied, your favorite smile spreading across his face again.

 “I liked that very much.” You said, pressing another kiss to his lips. He chuckled and propped himself up onto his arms with a small sight, rolling off you. Luckily, your sofa was large enough so you could comfortably lie next to each other.

“Me too, that was fantastic.” He replied and pulled you closer, putting his arm around you. You buried your face into his chest, soaking up the heat of his body and his wonderful smell.

 “Maybe you should come over more often.” You suggested, sounding a bit nervous again. You didn’t want to appear clingy. But this man had just rocked your world, and you couldn’t just act like nothing happened.

“I’ll come over whenever you want me to, sweetheart. Consider me at your beck and call.”

 “Stay the night?” you asked in a hopeful voice. You had work in the morning, but you just couldn’t imagine letting him go anywhere now.

He just nodded, smiled, and kissed you again. That soft, tingly feeling in your chest increased even more, and you just happily snuggled up to him.

 Later, as Jake was already asleep next to you, you took up your phone and sent a quick text message to Abby.

Next brunch is my treat! I owe you xxxx

[13thx]

@imafirefly​​ liked this for Ellie

  Jo   He   Joel had obviously believed in life. That living, despite everything - despite the consequences Joel had believed in HER life. That the cure hadn’t been wort- Joel... had been selfish.

Despite knowing that he was condemning hundreds of thousands - maybe even millions or billions - of people, and despite knowing Ellie’s wishes... he had still made the wrong choice. Ellie had never really come to terms with it; she had resented him for so long. His... death had entirely effected that. In those final moments, she wondered, did he know that she forgave him?

...And had it been real forgiveness, if there had been no time left? 

Abby had been searching for the Fireflies, in Santa Barbara. Ellie had never given much thought as to why; too caught up in what she had to do at the time. It was only after spending a few nights at Tommy’s, that she had truly thought it over. The Fireflies had always been about restoring government control; opposing militia - basically, all about happiness and freedom, right? Reverting this shitty world to the world it had been before. The cure was quite the side project, one that clearly failed. But, if the Fireflies had been regrouping, did that mean there were people who believed in the cure again?

That question seemed silly; the only person left to produce any sort of vaccine was dead. But regardless, Ellie had been turning it over in her mind. What if they found someone else? What if the possibility of a cure wasn’t completely lost? There might be someone - maybe in a different country, who was still alive, who had the same talents. Anything was possible. Hell, even a self-educated person could have a fighting chance at saving the world.

Ellie didn’t have Dina. Or JJ. Tommy... was still pushing for an eventual revenge plan. Ellie couldn’t stay. There was nothing for her there, anymore. The Fireflies, if ... if it was even a little bit possible...

And, she needed to find Abby again. This time, she didn’t know why. It wasn’t to kill her. This was more... Ellie following her gut. She was Joel’s killer, and Ellie would never forgive her for that, no matter the reasons - no matter the future. But Abby was also... the one person left, who maybe understood. Maybe. She didn’t know. All she was sure on, was that if they were searching for a cure - Abby should be the first person to talk to about it. 

After all they had been through; after all they had done... yeah. Yeah, she needed to be the one.

“Abby.” Gun wavered a bit; tempting to fire, but Ellie stopped herself, instead raising her hands in surrender. No more fighting, she reminded herself. There was a burning in the back of her throat, and for a second, she really wanted to throw up. This was difficult, for her. Extremely.. difficult. “I just wanna talk.”

[rqnvindr]

CONGRATS ON 1.7K !! the fall prompt idea is so cute omg can i have decorating w teru pls😼

HI ABBY ILY !! i hope you like this 🥺

#10. decorating 

--

“ooo what are you working on babe?” terushima asks, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you arrange the leaves along the circular frame.

“a wreath for our door!” you smile, holding up what you had so far. “fall starts in a few days so i thought we could get into the spirit!” 

you would never admit it, but you also wanted to decorate as an excuse to spend some cute domestic time with your boyfriend. now that he knew about your plans, you were hoping he’d take the hint.

“could you help me with these leaves, yuuji?” you pass the said objects to him along with the glue and he nods. 

the two of you begin to work on your little project in silence. most of your dates with terushima were adventurous and exhilarating and while you enjoyed the energetic side of him, activities like these allowed you to see different layers of him that only you had access to.

a loud thump coming from the living room causes him to yelp and nearly jump out of his chair. 

“what was that sound? was that a ghost?!” you playfully roll your eyes at him, taking his hand to go examine it together.

“no silly, it can’t be a ghost when it’s not even halloween yet!” you giggle. 

you find that the small potted autumn tree you had placed on the coffee table not long ago had been knocked over and your cat was standing right next to it, looking up at you and terushima with wide, innocent eyes.

you face palm while laughing at the same time. decorating was going to be an adventure in its own way when you had a hyper boyfriend and a cat to look after. 

1.7k milstone prompts

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

For obvious reasons, I’ve been poking around my MSA folder again. This is an old piece (circa 2016/pre-Hellbent) that I think is interesting, but that I know I’m never going to finish. It’s piecemeal, but hopefully there’s enough to enjoy!

The problem with being a supernatural entity on a team of paranormal investigators was that, inevitably, someone would figure something out.

That was hardly an issue for Mystery these days, since his status was something of an open secret among his humans (both living and deceased), but it did make things uncomfortable around other groups.

Such was the case now, and he watched silently, head cocked to the side in classic canine fashion, as a woman whispered something urgently to Vivi. She was hardly subtle about it, the way her eyes kept darting over to him, and, privately, he wondered why she even bothered keeping up the pretense if she honestly thought he was more than just a dog. Certainly she realized that any sentient being would recognize when they were being talked about.

Whatever the blonde said, Vivi laughed it off and made a sweeping gesture, trying to dismiss it. To Mystery, it was painfully obvious that the other woman had hit upon the truth, but, then again, he knew her. The stranger didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded and walked away-- though not without glancing back at them over her shoulder.

Perhaps trying to sell the part, Vivi closed the gap between herself and Mystery to ruffle his ears. He thumped his tail against the ground a handful of times and nipped at her sleeve.

---

Mystery raised his head in satisfaction, preening under the woman's incredulous gaze. It was put to an abrupt end, though, when one of the other investigators screamed. There was an answering gasp from behind them and, without looking, he realized what had happened. Everyone had been so focused on the main problem that--

"Aw, shit." Arthur breathed, looking at the empty air over his shoulder.

"I can't believe we forgot about that."

---

"Lewis, I truthfully do not care how that spell affected your projection, and if you had any common sense, you would realize why that is. If we don't get out of here right now, one of those ghost hunters is liable to catch you, and then what? We may know you're harmless, but I can guarantee that they won't take so kindly to the idea." / "Don't make us tell your family that you're gone again. Not over something so minor."

And, finally, the ghost relented.

While he'd already had a good idea what the spell had done, Mystery hadn't thought to prepare himself for the impact the glamour failure would have. He'd had all the information, true, but it didn't always play nice with the memory of his humans, and seeing Lewis as he'd been at the moment of his death was surprisingly difficult.

Perhaps guessing as much, Lewis raised his arms to block the worst of the fatal wound from view.

It was a nice gesture, but, ultimately, pointless.

"Come, now." Mystery whispered, dismissing the urge to say as much, "The plan is to meet Arthur and Vivi at the main road and leave before any of our friends here think to ask any more questions. I thought it best to let them do the convincing without any-- ah-- 'suspicious' influence, and, unfortunately, that means you and me."

He set off at a brisk pace, trusting the ghost to follow in his (ahem) wake. If it had been Vivi or even Arthur, Mystery might have been more inclined to keep an eye on them for fear of someone getting sidetracked or sheer dumb luck putting them in a tight spot, but Lewis floated dutifully along, still awkwardly trying to hide the bloody hole in his chest.

Maybe it was silly,  but Mystery had to wonder at irony of the situation. Ignoring all signs of death and his own aura, what would the outside observer see? A dog calling the shots and a young man following them. It fit, he supposed; of his humans, Lewis had always been the most agreeable.  

He snuck a sideways glance, eyes lingering on the gap that had torn halfway through the ghost's throat, and turned away so Lewis wouldn't notice the resultant grimace. Without knowing the specifics of the spell, there was no way to tell how long it would interfere with the ability to project an aura that wasn't so… gruesome. For a group of inexperienced youths, the range would be limited, but whether it was a matter of time, distance or any other variable was a complete unknown. If worst came to worst, there was sure to be a counter-spell somewhere, but that wasn't an ideal solution.

Mystery was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost yelped when a finger hooked under his collar and a steady arm swept him up, deeper into the undergrowth. While he refrained from doing anything quite so undignified, he was hardly thrilled with his new position a good five feet in the air, being held like no more than a puppy against Lewis's side.

With the clumsy crashing that sounded from up ahead, he recognized why the ghost had seen fit to make them scarce, but he was fairly certain that there were other ways to accomplish the same goal. Dryly, he looked up to see what Lewis had to say for himself, but all he got was a nearly inaudible "I panicked."

Mystery exhaled slowly and squirmed until he was set back on the ground, by which point the dull beam of a flashlight made its way along the main path, illuminating each tree in turn.

"--sure, Abby? If it could fool paranormal investigators for so long, it has to be a powerful spirit. The closest we've ever come to an actual haunting was just psychic residue; are we really ready for this?"

A pair of girls strode into view, the speaker nervously sweeping the flashlight's beam from side to side while her companion chewed on a strand of hair, eyes raised to the barren canopy in thought, where they reflected the scant moonlight.

"Your eyes." Mystery hissed in sudden alarm. When he looked up, the offending glow was focused on him. "They'll see--"

A piercing yelp suggested that his warning had come a fraction of a second too late. Had they not been sneaking through a woods pursued by excitable ghost hunters, it would have been funny how Lewis not only closed his eyes, but covered them with both hands and whirled around to face the opposite direction, the same way he'd play hide-and-seek with his sisters. As it stood, Mystery had more pressing matters to deal with, mostly concerning the pair of young women brandishing a flashlight in their general direction.

Though, if he knew humans-- specifically paranormal investigators-- well enough, there was one easy solution that came to mind. Admittedly, it had Vivi written all over it, but of everything Mystery could call himself in this form, A Very Loyal Dog was high on the list; it would be a gamble, but he felt it would be worth it.

In one fluid motion, he leapt away from Lewis and landed lightly several feet away. His impact with the ground made a satisfying crackle as the dry debris gave way beneath his paws, drawing the light off course towards where he was hidden.

"W-what was that?"

"Definitely not what we're looking for." The second girl sighed after a second to process the emptiness, though her expression was fixed firmly between relief and panic. "You see how high up those eyes were? You probably scared a raccoon with that flashlight 'a yours; you're deadly with that thing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. What kind of ghost kicks up a racket like that?"

The ghost in question was still hiding the glow of his eyes, but the way he had his shoulders hunched up told Mystery that his little stunt had successfully scared Lewis. Good. That made them even.

He crept nearer, any noise camouflaged by the way their would-be pursuers trundled along in the opposite direction, and brushed lightly against Lewis's leg to announce his presence.

"Sorry, I panicked."

Lewis cracked one eye open and gave Mystery an unimpressed look, but didn't bother to say anything about the transparent jab. That was another crisis averted-- if a minor one, compared to what had already happened-- and there was no use in arguing with results.

Neither breathed another word as they continued towards the grove's edge or even for the first few minutes that they idled at the tree line.

Ears swiveling as he listened for any suggestion of human activity, Mystery kept his eyes on the vehicle parked further up the road. It was likely where the two women they'd encountered had entered from, but it wasn't exactly empty; the cab light diffused into the darkness, revealing the vague outline of a person hunched over a book. Despite himself, Mystery's mind wandered to Arthur's crusade to keep Vivi from draining the van's battery the same way-- which had, more or less, devolved into convincing her to drape herself over Lewis instead.

Not that she needed any excuse.

Speaking of Lewis, he had been assigned look out duty. This served two purposes: one was so they'd actually know when to act and the other was that, if his attention was focused in the opposite direction, there was very little chance of him getting them caught because of that blasted glow. It had been a flimsy excuse and, like the joke earlier, it was obvious that the ghost had seen through it. Mystery was fairly certain that he'd been sulking over it for the past five minutes.

It wasn't that Mystery enjoyed poking fun at his humans, but they could just be so funny at times.

"Headlights." Lewis said quietly. After a second, he added, "Definitely Arthur and Vivi; that mud is still stuck to the left one. You don't think that guy over there is going to be any trouble, do you?"

Mystery picked his way over and glanced down the road before turning back to the potential troublemaker. "I don't want to find out. Let's just eliminate the risk and admit ourselves without making them stop for us."

"You want me to phase us through the van?"

The dog flattened his ears, but nodded. "Not my first choice, I assure you, but at the speed Arthur's going-- or lack thereof-- it shouldn't be a difficult task to accomplish."

Lewis mimicked the gesture and, belatedly, Mystery realized that he'd been pressing his arms against the phantom wound again, like he was trying to hide it from a nonexistent audience. He let the behavior slide this time-- though it did make him wonder about the earlier 'sulking'-- and stayed quiet as Lewis gathered him up and launched the both of them at the slow moving vehicle.

They wound up barreling through the windshield and tumbling to a halt in the back, eliciting twin shrieks from Arthur and Vivi, the latter of whom clamored halfway out of her seat to stare into the hold. Even in the darkness, her smile lit up her entire face as she asked, "Couldn't just wait for us, huh?"

"Arthur, speed up." Mystery said in lieu of a greeting, "We don't want to have any more friendly chats tonight. Vivi, sit properly and put your seatbelt on. And you," He rounded on the space Lewis had to occupy, based solely on the magenta glow. "That wasn't quite as horrible as last time. You're getting better at this."

"Hurray." He answered, amusement creeping into his tone despite the heavy layering of sarcasm. "I'm getting better at being dead."

"Oh, just take the compliment."

Reluctantly, Vivi wriggled back into her seat, head swiveling as she watched the stationary vehicle temporarily light up only to go dark again a second later. The detail didn't escape Arthur's notice, and he spared her a quick look. "See? That's why you use Lewis as a reading light and not the van."

She stuck her tongue out at him before leaning backwards, trying to look into the hold upside-down. "You make a better reading nest than this old thing anyway."

"Hurray." Lewis repeated, though the effort was foiled by the laughter that bubbled up before he'd even gotten the word out.

"You guys are so lucky you got out of the 'intervention'." With one hand, Arthur let go of the wheel to add the obligatory scare quotes. "Those people just wouldn't take 'no, we've got it covered' for an answer. At least we aren't like that. Anymore. Were we ever like that?"

Mystery snorted, finally turning his attention from the rear window as the last trace of the would-be ghost hunters disappeared into the night. "You don't want me to answer that."

And, for awhile, the ride lapsed into a comfortable rhythm. Mystery found his way into the front seat and curled up between Arthur and Vivi, listening to the conversation: complaints and rude remarks about the latest venture, debate over the usage of incense in the van, thinly veiled accusations of Deadbeats hiding important tools and, of course, heated discussion over the radio station.

It only lasted as long as the drive did, but that was better than nothing.

As was often the case, the rest stop they pulled into was deserted; given the hour and location, it was hardly a surprise. The light emanating from the post Arthur parked next to was dim, but enough to see by so long as one was in the van's front.

Vivi abandoned her excavation of the glove compartment-- dropping their abused map and an equally battered notebook she used to track investigations-- and made a desperate bid for freedom, bursting out the passenger-side door into the night.

"I can breathe again!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and grinned lopsidedly at Lewis as he pocketed the keys. "Weird how fresh air is such a commodity here. Any idea why my van smells like an aromatherapist's office? Any ideas? I'm stumped."

His grin tapered off when he realized that, instead of vaulting the front seat to join them, Lewis had shrunk back into the body of the van where only his eyes were visible. It was a far cry from how he'd been leaning backwards against the seat to socialize just minutes prior.

Briefly, Arthur's eyes flicked to Mystery, who stared back at him evenly. It was supposed to be a non-answer, but it told him what he wanted to know. So, keys jingling in his vest pocket, he hopped back into the van and knelt on the seat, mechanical arm hanging limply over the backrest as he leaned into the other.

"So. Today was fun. Plenty of paranormal activity and active paranormalists to keep everyone entertained-- some of us more than others." At the lack of any response-- beyond vague agreement-- Arthur sighed and abandoned his perch entirely, slipping behind it into the hold. "It's what that lady said, isn't it? Listen Lew, you know Vivi and I don't--"

As though summoned by the sound of her name, Vivi called, "Oh boooooys," and ran the length of the van, tapping at the siding with her nails. She stopped at the back doors knocked on them in rapid succession, waited long enough to serve as a dramatic pause, and threw the doors open with a cry of "Come out, come out and plaaaay!"

Arthur winced as the doors creaked on their hinges, and was about to remind Vivi 'easy does it' when he noticed something amiss. Blindly, he reached into the darkness after Lewis and pulled his hand back when it encountered something sharp.

"I was way off base; it wasn't what that girl said, it was the spell. What's wrong? What did it do to you?"

"Spell?" Vivi echoed, brows knit together and previous mischief forgotten, "What spe-- oh. That spell. Don't worry so much, it was just for true sight, and it's not like there's anyone around to see."

There was a scuffle from up front then the sound of paws on asphalt and Mystery's voice rang out before he even rounded the corner of the van. "Exactly, it's nothing to worry about. Arthur, might I suggest that you, Vivi and I take a walk?"

"What. Is. Wrong?"

The dog winced and looked to Vivi for backup, but found none. "Nothing's 'wrong' per se…"

He went safely ignored as Arthur and Vivi shared a look and, in unison, turned to stare into the shadows.

"How 'bout this: we find a place to talk and work all this out?"

There was a beat of silence and the magenta glow disappeared as Lewis sighed, "That's really sweet, Vivi, but I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"I just-- don't want you guys to have to see this. Go ahead and get some fresh air; I'll be fine here."

Vivi sighed and puffed her cheeks up. That made things substantially harder. If Lewis had convinced himself that he was doing this for her and Arthur's benefit, he wasn't going to budge on the issue. Not even death had managed to interfere with the force of nature that was Lewis's protective streak.

Still, she didn't understand the first part. What was there to see? True sight swept illusions away and kept them from being reestablished; even if the skeletal projection was Lewis's natural state-- and she knew for a fact that it wasn't-- there was no reason to hide.

"Please don't press the matter," Mystery said, leaping up into the back. "It will resolve itself. If it makes you feel better, I'll stay here and play 'guard dog' while you're away."

Her frown didn't lessen, but Vivi shrugged. "Who needs 'away'? We have full rein of the parking lot and all the fresh air we can handle-- that's good enough for me."

"You don't have to--"

Arthur snorted, cutting off a protest he'd heard dozens upon dozens of times in the past. "You keep thinkin' that, bud. Say it enough and maybe you'll convince one or two of the Deadbeats. Maybe."

As though he expected that to summon the wispy ghosts, Arthur glanced around and, assured that the little troublemakers weren't about to play any trick on him, blindly reached out to find the wall of the van. Once he successfully located it, he leaned back and slid down to the floor in an undignified-- but comfortable-- heap.

"So how'd you convince Mystery to let you phase him through the van, anyway?"

Scoffing, the dog in question trotted back into the van's darkened innards, leaving Vivi standing, idle and alone, at the back doors.

That just wouldn't do.

'Alone' she could handle but 'idle' she could not-- not when she had an investigation log to update and a conversation to eavesdrop on. That wasn't to say that the conversation in back was a secret or that she wasn't welcome to join, but it was more fun to think that there was some element of subterfuge involved. Besides, she couldn't record the day's events and talk at the same time; the one time she'd tried it, the results had been indecipherable.

Even though it would have been nice to run around a little, she could think of worse things to do. She still got her fresh air as she scribbled away in her notebook, heels knocking against the van's siding as she absently kicked her feet.

All things considered, it was an acceptable substitute-- up until Vivi turned the cab light on to scrutinize the map.

Arthur immediately fell silent, which wouldn't have been entirely unusual, but there wasn't any follow-up commentary from either of his conversation partners or any other indication that somebody had said something strange enough to render the lot of them speechless. Confused, Vivi straightened up in time to see Lewis scramble to cover the gaping hole that tore through his chest. It was a doomed attempt, doing nothing to obscure the dried blood caking his vest or the other, more minor puncture wounds. If anything, it only served to prominently show off the tip of a stalagmite that had, somehow, lodged itself in his arm.

Vivi felt her jaw drop and, on their own accord, her hands flew to her mouth.

"S-sorry." The ghost said, stubbornly refusing to meet anyone's eyes as he hugged his arms tighter around himself. "Sorry. It's pretty bad. I didn't want you to…"

Despite having gone so pale he looked ill, Arthur picked the abandoned train of thought up on Lewis's behalf. "Have to see it. Yeah. You mentioned that." / "Wh-what happened? Are you, y'know, okay?"

--

As promised, they found him at the picnic area across the parking lot. He was sitting at a table full of Deadbeats, chin propped up on one hand as he skimmed through one of Vivi's tomes. In theory, all of that was perfectly fine.

In actuality, five of the six wisps had seated themselves properly on the picnic benches while the sixth threaded itself through their leader's torso, staring blankly at the open book but still looking completely thrilled with the situation.

Lewis didn't even seem aware of it until, in his haste to cover the wound at their approach, he flipped the book upwards and hugged it to his chest. The offending Deadbeat phased through it, squeaked in dismay, and retreated.

[migleefulmoments]

Abb/y has something to s/ay

Let me premise this by reminding everyone that Abby -like Trump-doesn’t “get” comedy. They literally do not understand jokes, punchlines, or humor. So a satirical show about the Hollywood song writers falls flat. Her time away did nothing to sway her conspiratorial aspirations or her misogynistic hatred of Mia. She watched Royalties not once, but twice... not to enjoy Darren’s creativity and performance, not to support the celebrity she stans, and not even to crack up at the humor, no she watched twice because she was looking for confirmation bias. She wanted to document all of the ways Darren wrote his CrissColfer truth into Pierce’s life and she obsessively listened to all of the diss-tracks he wrote to attack his wife.  

Let me also premise this by saying I loved the show. I thought it was funny and the songs are so damn catchy.  The lyrics are quintessential Darren- funny, very clever, and raunchy.  

******************************************

R/oyalties, the Tale of Two Shows with a Heaping Side of Meta

ajw720. So I just finished watching R/oyalties for the second time, this time solely focused on the meta.  Look, we all know, the show is not good, it was not well written and the short format didn’t help as there was no option to develop character or plot.  But D knew it would not be good, he apologized for it back in January 2019.  And I think the effort he put into acting was the effort it deserved. Ok.

But his songs were genius.  As were the videos, hence why i call it the tale of two shows.  It truly was like watching content made by completely different people. I concur with MH, D is “intensely talented.”  And the part of this show he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into, the songs, are evident of this.

But this is a post about that Heaping Side of Meta. I think D, knowing that that show would not be made in the manner he envisioned, instead used it as a vehicle to make some bold statements and parallels with his career and public life.  Shall we begin?  And please, unlike the perfect song, this is not a perfect post and after the second round of watching i canceled my Quibi subscription and never plan to look back, so please feel free to add. I know some of these have been pointed out but I thought it was valuable to have one post.

One idea to inpsire the song?  A tiny FROG on a dime.

D’s shirt 1st seen in Episode 2: “It is hard to soar like an Eagle when you are surrounded by turkeys”

And of course “Call me Goldilocks bitch”  Remind you of something?

How about the entirety of Episode 3 when we are told that an artist is completely the product of the team.  That no matter what the artists expresses they want, it doesn’t matter because the Label/manager/publicist/on camera agent/legal will always have a say. And how it will play in America or the Foreign market are key metrics of how the product is produced and presented.  I love the line of the songwriter that tells P/ierce and S/ara to “get out while they are young.”  Or the line by one of her team “we don’t want something different, we want something the same that is different.”  And in the end P&S simply took one of KK old songs and reworked it, making something different that is not different and her team loved it.  

And of course, the line that was an utter slap in the face to the most over praised “director” of an indie band video ever when D reminds her of the real director in his life, the man set to direct major motion pictures, “you know who would be perfect to direct? C/hris.  C/hris would shatter this.”

Not much in Episode 4, but the gorilla suit in my opinion was mocking of a certain MMR video where we watched Swiller and a banana in a song about a gorilla.  Images I never need to see in my head again.

Episode 5, a gem, I am still so fucking proud of D and how he mocked her throughout the entirety of the episode.  New lines I love of that amazing song he wrote about her (in addition to those i posted previously here) “Some people say I’m a  genius, which comes from the greek word for Latin, and other people will say, alright in fact i’m a fuckin’s genius” “I’m not saying I’m a god, but I’m not saying I’m not a god.”  Mocking at its finest made all that much better by the band’s name “Switchback Jacket” that D describes as “butt rock emo” that is performed by a band that doesn’t actually sing, they are just the public image.  He literally told us that what we see is an image created for the public and that it is completely fake.  And he used his beard to make this statement. Just brilliant.  I cannot praise him enough for this, stealing her moment in the sun and making her look like an utter fool, telling us just how narcissistic she is.

Also some wonderful lines from that episode that are beyond telling:

“Power, it felt good to remind Kevin that I hold power over him. You always want to be the one with power”

“p/ierce wouldn’t know where to take a shit if I didn’t tell him.”

“she is like my wife except we don’t have sex and we are friends.”

“alright boss, I am ready to record that song, but where should i take a shit?”

“You will do anything to succeed.”

Episode 8 starring “Poly Amorous and the Unicorn Guild” an episode used to shine a light on how absurd it is that people believe D&PBB lived with platonic roomie B/enny for something like 4 years.  3 grown ass adults, all of whom have money to spare lived together in a relatively small house for four years.  It is pure comedy that anyone would believe that this is normal.  But hey these are the same people that explained away the infamous arm around her while at an awards show with D looking on:

And the cherry on top of this episode, the inclusion of C/huck (for some background, see my post here).

I really like the one bit of dialogue between P&S, where D pretty much tells us once again that M will use anyone to get what she wants:

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe just maybe, I don’t like where we are now? There were a lot of really great things about the way things were.  Things that are worth preserving.  Not that you just take and use and through out.”

Episode 9 had some really impactful lines:

“you think i wouldn’t steal for my career? You think I wouldn’t lie?  I would do anything.”

The Neils being the nameless individuals, nothing more than a number, who are the ones who actually create the product.  And then the song, some of the translations are D telling you how he feels, because sometimes i think in terms of his public image he is just a Neil trying to escape the cage that has been built around him:

“I dream about getting away, I have been locked up in this cage wishing i could make my escape. I hate that I need you.”

And finally Episode 10, where we learn the Neils get no credit and no royalties. This reminds me of a script C wrote that never saw the light of day but suddenly the next season of AHS had the same theme as his script.

And that is all i got, if you have more please add. I think the fact that D took what he knew would be a mediocre project and projected his voice and story throughout it was pretty genius and a smart way to utilize this vehicle, that was clearly payout for so many that have used him for years and to shine a bright light on the truth.

elicc  The “perfect song”’s performer is called Bailey Rouge, a clear link to TLOS.

He is a genius.

ajw720   @elicc damn, that was on my list and I forgot. And we all know who Red is inspired by, so seems fitting Bailey Rouge would get the perfect song.

ajw720. Just adding one more I thought about putting in my original post but admittedly think it’s a stretch. But maybe not? Just adding here for fun.

When Theo tells P to bottle up all his romantic feelings I couldn’t help but think of a certain chapter in a book

*******************************************

Oy Vei! Abby didn’t use her time away getting any therapy or perspective.  She hasn’t learned any lessons. I have no doubt she’s been reading just as much as she did before and she’s speaking to Cassie, Flowers et al all day. It’s really sad. It’s sad that she can’t see how silly she sounds, what an asshole her version of Darren is. If she could restrain herself even a little bit it might come off less unhinged because turning every single moment of Royalties into some crisscolfer wet dream reeks of desperation. 

Abby hates Royalties. In last week’s “Dear D” she had the audacity to say 

....Fans that are beyond devoted and mainly because of the way you have treated fans with respect and a level of caring that far surpasses the majority of public figures.  And while I am not enjoying the show itself, the music shows how diverse you are as a writer and how you can virtually write for anyone or any genre. The songs are fantastic.  Memorable.  And really fun.  

She knows the the Langs wrote the show and Darren wrote the songs but what she can’t seem to comprehend is that Darren IS Royalties. Everything in the show is Darren’s.  

Staying in the closet would be less painful than trying to express oneself through a short-form satirical comedy.  Can you imagine trying to express your devastation and pain through Kick Your Shoes off or Break It In? 

“I’m the king of the hard fuck....pile drive the bed like a young buck...if you like feathery shit thats pretty cool but I don’t need that...people say I fuck too soft, saying that I can’t please a woman” 

BTW Abby- “call me goldilocks bitch” isn’t a reference to TLOS it’s a reference to Goldilocks and Three Bears because because he fucks perfect, not too soft, not too hard. It’s much more believable that he is referring to a random nursery rhyme than it is to believe he is referring to a children’s book his lover/husband/boyfriend wrote 8 years ago. You might love the book but Chris has moved on and written new things. 

Darren wrote funny lyrics. I loved Kick Your Shoes Off because it’s written by a man whose watched his wife and female friends wear painful shoes for the same of fashion even though its painful as fuck.   

“Yeah, I’m a bad bitch so don’t be mad bitch. I turned the room into a catwalk like a sad bitch. I can’t feel my toes in these stilettos. when I walk out my roomate says you’ll regret those....Beauty is pain but oh I look amazing.  You won’t hear me complaining but oh my instep (inside?) is screaming...kick your shoes off (kick em off) ooooooo I do what I want..(Kick em off) ooooo Hey I can’t walk in these, blisters start to bleed now both my feet are swollen. Kick your shoes off (Kick em off).....It’s like i feel so good when my shoes are on, but like i also feel sooooo good when they are off” 

Abby’s convinced I am So Much Better Than You is straight up about Mia because Mia is in the video. She listened to it on repeat the day after it came out. In her “Letter to D” last week she said 

Especially after you made an effort to mock her for the entirety of Tuesday when her episode aired (and for the record I am still really, really proud of what you did with that episode and how you handled the roll out, that is the fighter I admire and that inspires me.  I listened to I am so much better than you on repeat on my drive home from work yesterday).   

Good Lord  The lyrics are as silly as all the other songs: “My mirror wants to bone me (but it can’t because it’s a mirror)” How did Abby miss the obvious TLOS mirror/ Halloween costume reference here?  

“You keep doing push ups while I get buff eating mac and cheese (with overpriced lobster and truffles because I’m worth it)”  

“Some people say I’m a genius (which comes from the greek work for latin) Some other people will say yeah I’m right I’m a fucking genius (I’m not saying I’m a god but I’m not saying I’m not a god). 

“And even when you sneeze, God blesses me, he blesses me. And even when you sneeze, god blesses me, he blesses me, he blesses me”

“I’m am so much better than you at everything”. 

She believes Darren would be- and stay- married to a women that he publicly ridicules and attacks. I don’t get why she thinks that is something admirable . 

She thinks Also You is referring to Ben living with them.  Where to start with this one? She says

“Episode 8 starring “Poly Amorous and the Unicorn Guild” an episode used to shine a light on how absurd it is that people believe D&PBB lived with platonic roomie B/enny for something like 4 years.  3 grown ass adults, all of whom have money to spare lived together in a relatively small house for four years.  It is pure comedy that anyone would believe that this is normal.  But hey these are the same people that explained away the infamous arm around her while at an awards show with D looking on”

I’m gobsmacked.  Also You is about Polyamory. She doesn’t even understand her own theories if she thinks that is the message Darren wants to share about Mia and Ben.  In no world would someone try to proclaim their wife was cheating on them with a live-in houseguest by writing an episode called Poly Amorous and the Unicorn Guild.  Also, someone needs to explain cuckholding to her because her theories about Ben and Mia make Darren a cuck.  

OMG I just realized that Darren is a cuck and Royalties proves it.  He hired Kether to be his costar in Royalties,...Kether is in You’re the Worst as Lindsay.  Lindsay cuckholds her husband. Bam! mic drop.   

Why isn’t Perfect Song about Mia, you know, if we are playing confirmation bias “No one is as good as you because you're my perfect song” 

[galadrieljones]

That he may hold me by the hand - Chapter 9

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason  

Rating: Mature (Adult Themes and Situations, Violence, and Sexual Content)

Summary: After saving Albert from stumbling off a cliff in the Heartlands, Arthur invites him to Valentine for a drink. What ensues after that is a quiet love story, in which both men find themselves completely undone.

Masterpost | AO3 | Epigraph

Chapter 9: And then, the tides turned.

That morning, John was sitting in his room upstairs, in Shady Bell, thinking and staring out the window. He was thinking about his conversation with Arthur from the day before, when they had been in the grave yard, pondering the meaning of their existence as men outside the law. Down in the yard, he could see Jack, having woken up maybe half an hour before. He was with the dog, and they were minding their own business. Jack was like that. He minded his own business. He had a stick and he was drawing shapes in the mud leftover from the storm, and the dog was just lying there, with his little face on his paws, watching. Much of the camp was still sleeping, Abigail among them. He’d shared a bed with her that night. They had only slept. They had not touched. He knew it would be a long time coming if she was ever going to touch him again, but he could wait. She was waking up now, pushing the dark hair out of her face, looking around as if she could not remember where she was. When she saw him, she propped up onto her elbows and sighed. She smiled, wearing her night clothes, which she had sewn herself many years before. He remembered her doing it.

“Hey,” he said. He had been whittling a little horn out a piece of wood. He set it down on the windowsill now.

“Where’s Jack?” she said.

“Downstairs,” said John. “Don’t worry. I can see him from here.”

She nodded, reassured, and swung her bare feet over the side of the bed. They dangled a little. She was a short woman. “I ain’t slept like that in…years.”

“Yeah,” said John, smiling. “You was out cold.”

She blushed.

“Abbie,” he said. He turned toward her in his chair, with real conviction.

“What is it?”

“We need to talk,” he said. “Can I—?”

She seemed to read his mind. “Yeah,” she said, looking concerned. “Come on over here, John. It’s fine.”

He got up, joined her on the bed. He gathered her hands up into his, looked down at the shapes their palms made, like a little nest.

“What the hell’s the matter?” she said. “You seem so serious.”

“I am,” he said. He looked at her. “I am, Abbie.”

She waited, her cheeks still flushed from sleep. “What’s going on?”

“We need to get ready,” he said, nodding to himself. “Abbie. We need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

"For leaving. You, and me, and Jack.”

“Leaving?” she said. “John, you’re scaring me.”

“No, don’t. Don’t be scared.”

“Where we going to?”

“I don’t know,” said John, shaking his head. “I ain’t—I ain’t thought it that far through yet. I only just got to the realization last night.”

“What realization?”

“That this—this gang. This whole thing. It ain’t good, Abbie. Not no more.”

The sun was getting brighter, poking through the tupelos, coming in through the window now, and lighting her face. “You saying you wanna leave the gang?”

“Yes,” he said. “I am. And I want you and Jack to come with me, for us to be a family.”

She got real quiet now, like she was soaking in something. She glanced toward the window. You could hear Jack now, shouting for the dog to follow him. Sadie was there. She said, Hey Jack. Come help me feed the chickens, okay?

“Is this because of Arthur?” she said. “I mean—is it something he said to you?”

“It is,” said John. “He’s making me realize, it ain’t no picnic here no more, Abbie. Jack got kidnapped. It just ain’t safe.”

“I know,” she said. “I know, and I agree with you.”

“So you’ll be ready. To go. When it’s time.”

“When’s it gonna be time?” she said.

“I don’t know,” said John, still with her hands in his. “I just don’t know. We need some money, probably. We need a place to go.”

“Where is Arthur, John?” she said. “I saw him leave last night, real late. He rode away from the camp. He’s been so…distant. Where is he?”

John cleared his throat, searching her eyes. She was genuinely curious, and she still had not taken her hands back and this was encouraging. It emboldened him. “Arthur is in St. Denis,” he said. “That’s where he’s been.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he said. “He, uh. He sort of met someone.”

“Met someone?” said Abigail. She got real bright. She looked happy. “You mean like, romantically? A woman?”

“Well, no,” said John, taking a deep breath. “I mean…like, a man. It’s what you’re thinking. It’s romantic, but it’s a man. And I’ve met him. He’s real decent, Abbie. He’s good. He’s rich, like. High society, from Philadelphia. He’s a nature photographer. His name is Albert Mason.”

Abigail was just staring at him, like she didn’t know what to say. She had these eyes that looked sort of like melting ice caps. Her features may have been a little stark to some people, but to him, were like a home. He knew them so well. “Arthur is getting on with a high society nature photographer?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “They met, maybe a couple months back? He was helping him with a project and I guess it just sort of…evolved.”          

She looked down at her bare feet, then to the door. “Sweet Jesus. I had no idea.”

“Me neither,” he said. "Well, I mean, not till recently."

“Does he seem happy?” said Abigail. “Arthur?”

“Yes,” said John, seriously. “He does. And I think—I mean, Albert, he’s got money. They could go anywhere.”

“You think Arthur is gonna leave,” said Abigail, looking back at him. “That’s why you wanna leave.”

“I wanna leave, because it ain’t safe. Not for you, and not for Jack. But yes. I think—I think that Arthur is gonna leave, Abbie. I can’t say where to, but I can say why.”

Outside, you could hear the birds chirping as the camp roused into life. Pearson put the coffee on, and somebody was cooking what smelled like bacon over a spit. Javier was bringing in the day on his wistful guitar, and for a moment, it was almost bucolic.

“It’s sort of romantic,” said Abigail. “Don’t you think?”

“I guess,” said John.

“Big tough guy, Arthur Morgan, outlaw, gunslinger, getting swept off his feet by some rich guy from Philadelphia.” She laughed to herself. “It figures. What’s his name again?”

“Albert Mason,” said John.

“Albert Mason,” said Abigail, looking down in silliness. “Same initials even. What’s he like?”

John shrugged. “He’s real nice,” he said. “I don’t know. Calm, and generous. He cares about Arthur, a lot. You can tell. He likes tea.”

“Is he good-looking?”

John laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Oh, you’re such a tough guy,” she said, fooling. She pinched his cheek, and shoved him in the shoulder. “John Marston. Well, maybe one day I’ll meet him myself, and I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Maybe you will,” said John.

They watched each other closely, in the warm light pouring through the windows from the late morning sun. “Does anybody else know?” said Abigail. “About Albert?”

“Just Mary Beth,” said John.

“Hmm.”

John knew what she was thinking. “Yeah. I know. It’s a whole…thing, isn’t it.”

“She’s been carrying a torch for that man,” said Abigail, fussing with her hair now, putting it in a braid over her shoulder. “I’ve always known. I told her he’s hopeless, time and time again, but she never heard nothing of it. Anyway, she’s too damn smart for this sort of living. I always thought, if I could read and write like her? I’d be out of here in an instant.”

“You can read just fine,” said John. “You’re getting better.”

She waved him off, embarrassed. “Oh, I read like a moron.”

“I’ll help you,” he said. “We can practice more, if it’s what’ you want.”

This undid her a little and she looked at him like she wasn’t quite sure how to respond. The sunlight made her cheeks look golden. She finished with her braid, laid it flat. She said, “Maybe some night? When there’s time of course.”

“Sounds good,” said John.

The next day, Arthur and Albert had gotten on their horses and rode north to a ridge above the Kamassa River, where they camped in privacy amidst the enchanted forest and the marshy air in the foothills of the eastern Grizzly Range. As had been their plan from may weeks before, they were finally on their hunt for moccasin flowers, which Albert had been wanting to photograph for a long while. For the time being, however, it was sundown and they had already had their dinner. Arthur was deep inside him, their bodies pressed together, making indents in the earth at the foot of a tall and unwieldy White Oak tree. Arthur was a gentle species, but Albert urged him that night. Emboldened by the natural world and the freedom of the woods, he wanted them both to get past the brink and with enough encouragement, Arthur brought them there, jagged and moaning. It was like he didn’t know what hit him. It went on. It took a long time, and Albert felt proud and undone, exhausted once they finished. It was ecstasy. Arthur leaned forward to steady against the tree. He pressed his lips to the back of Albert’s neck, pushing away the hair and the sweat, catching his breath. They kissed, pondering, processing what had just taken place. When they both surfaced from the rubble, Arthur pulled out of him, slowly, and Albert shuddered in the aftermath, collapsed to the earth and they held one another until the sun was all the way down behind the trees and they were too cold to stay undressed any longer.

Back by the fire, they wore their regular clothes again, leaned against a big, hardy rock as they shared a joint of hash and smoking tobacco. Together, they blew the smoke into the air and grew bleary-eyed from the drugs, falling deeper and deeper in love as the night washed over and through them. After a while, they fell asleep. The night was quiet, and their bodies were warm. But Albert woke up at some point when the fire got low. He was thirsty, anxious. He leaned forward to stoke the flame and lit another cigarette and let Arthur continue to lean against him, eyes closed, his breathing long and even. Albert ran one hand through Arthur’s hair, where it curled behind his ears. Even as it looked dingy in the dark of the evening, it would be gold by morning again, almost flaxen, bleached in highlights from the sun. He almost couldn’t take it, the things he was feeling.

He hadn’t told Arthur yet, about California. He knew why, as he sat there by the fire, smoking his cigarette. He just wanted things to stay simple, a little longer. It felt limitless, physical, full of romance and also speed. He had never been taken so quickly by anyone. It messed him up, in a good way, and it made him certain about what he wanted. As he pondered the future now, Albert feared that Arthur would reject him—any suggestion that they move forward, leave this place. Arthur held so much, so tightly within himself. Pain, history. He told Albert little of his life. It’s just who he was, as a man, and Albert accepted him. There was no way to bridge this part of Arthur, not completely. Of course, certain elements of his heart could be coaxed free. He was generous, and loving, full of warmth when they were together, but that was feelings. It wasn’t feelings that Arthur struggled with, strangely enough. It was the choosing. Albert could meet him halfway, and he could wait. He could wait forever, he thought, but he did not want to wait. He would, but he didn’t want to. He put the hair behind Arthur’s ear, finished his cigarette, and waited. He read a little, trying to clear his mind. In the distance, you could hear the coyotes. It was a beautiful place.

About a half hour later, around midnight, Arthur roused, suddenly. He sat straight up off the rock, as if he had been woken by a nightmare. He looked around frantically and placed his hand on the pistol at his side. Albert was startled at first but just clasped one firm hand to Arthur’s shoulder and said, “It’s okay.”

Arthur came to, shook his head out, immediately. He went almost limp, back against that rock and he took a deep breath. His eyes were a little wide, glazed over. He was breathing fast. “Shit,” he said, his chest rising and falling. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you have a bad dream?” said Albert.

“No,” said Arthur, digging the heel of his palm in his eyeball. “I mean, not really. More like, I just don’t normally fall asleep like that, so hard, not out in the wilderness.”

“Yes, I know,” said Albert. “But it’s okay. Everything’s all right, just where you left it.”

Arthur closed his eyes and set his head back, taking deep, even breaths until he settled down. “What time is it?”

“Nearly midnight,” said Albert. “I woke up a little while ago. I couldn’t sleep.”

“What you been up to?” said Arthur. He plucked a cigarette from the brim of his hat. He lit it and smoked, hanging his head between his knees. He seemed all right now, just weary.

“I’m thinking, mostly.”

“What about?”

Albert took a deep breath. “About you,” he said.

Arthur grinned, glanced up at him, smoking that cigarette, looking canny in the firelight. “You’re pretty smooth when you want to be, Mr. Mason.”

This made Albert laugh to himself. “I try.”

Arthur studied him then, his blue eyes washed out to gray, but even still, his focus could rip right through. “Al. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just—I’m torn about something.”

“You know you can tell me anything,” said Arthur. He flicked the cigarette.

“I know.”

“Then go ahead,” said Arthur. “I’m listening.”

Albert removed his cigarette case from his pocket. It was silver and very fine. He withdrew one, lit it with a match, then offered the case to Arthur who declined. He just smoked then, absentmindedly as he looked at the fire. He scratched an itch above his eyebrow, listened to the loons, going off in the distance with the coyotes. He looked down at the cigarette case, which he held in one hand. He was running his thumb over its delicate engravings: E.L.M., it read. Elijah Lawrence Mason, his father. “Do you remember how I told you that I got a letter from my mother the other day,” he said.

Arthur nodded. He had his elbows resting on his knees. “Yeah. You said she’s doing well. What’s her name again?”

“Cynthia,” said Albert, flipping the case open and shut, then putting it away in his pocket. He smoked.

“Cynthia Mason,” said Arthur. “What was her maiden name? I’m just curious.”

“Ruffalo.”

“Ruffalo. So she’s Italian?”

“By half. Her mother was French.”

“I see,” said Arthur. “That’s very American of you.”

“What about you?” said Albert.

“I don’t know much,” said Arthur. He plucked a long piece of grass from the earth, began to shred it into ribbons with his fingertips. “My family, they lived here as long as I can remember. I think my grandparents, on my father’s side—they came from England. They was farmers. But my mother’s side, I don’t know.”

“Do you remember her maiden name?”

“No,” said Arthur. “I know I saw her buried. I remember the funeral. It even said it, her maiden name, on the tombstone, but I can’t remember.”

“You were little,” said Albert. “It’s all right.”

“Yeah,” said Arthur. He tossed the grass into the fire.

“Where is she buried?”

“Baker City,” said Arthur. “Oregon. That I do remember. It’s near the Blue Mountain range. Pretty country."

“I’ll bet. Have you been back there, since she died?”

“No,” said Arthur, shaking his head, growing distracted. He didn’t go on any further, and so Albert changed the subject.

“Arthur,” he said after a minute.

“Yes.”

“I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Go on,” said Arthur. “I told you. I’m listening.”

“A long time ago, when we first had that drink together, in Valentine.” He smoked. “I mentioned that my mother may be moving to California. Do you remember?”

“Yeah, I think so,” said Arthur. He was coming back from a distant place. “Why?”

“Because she is moving to California,” said Albert. “Finally. She said so in her letter. My uncle, he bought a ranch near the Monterey Peninsula, but he’s taken a wife, apparently, and moving to San Francisco. He’s left the ranch to my mother.”

“That sounds amazing,” said Arthur. “When’s she headed out?”

“Soon.” Albert took one last drag, studied his dirty fingertips, the burned out cigarette, flicked the nubbin into the fire. “It’s a big ranch, with water, stables, a couple different homesteads, privately arranged. It’s on a cliff, overlooking the Pacific Ocean, near a town called Carmel-by-the-Sea. She has invited us, Arthur. To come out, to live there. That is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The sky seemed to stop turning, rotating on a dime. Arthur was giving him a look. He had that wrinkle in his forehead, the one that only popped up when he was totally confused. “Come again?”

“After the gallery opening, this Friday, my purpose in St. Denis is very…up in the air,” said Albert. He removed the cigarette case again, took out another cigarette. “Things can change, if we let them. We have a place to go. Both of us.”

“She knows about me?"

"Yes," said Albert. "She does."

Arthur seemed lost for words. "Al."

“Yes?”

“Why the hell are we talking about this now?” said Arthur. “Midnight, in the enchanted forest. You brought up your mother’s letter yesterday morning. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because,” said Albert, sighing. “I panicked. To be perfectly honest, I was terrified.”

“Terrified?”

“That you would say no,” said Albert. He lit the cigarette. “I just—I know you, Arthur.”

“I know you do.”

“I don’t know a lot about your gang and what you do, but I know you.” He smoked, fanned the smoke out of the air. “You’re a loyal man. You value your relationships—with John, his family, Mary Beth. God knows there must be more.”

“And?"

“And I’m asking you to leave them, and to come with me, to California.” Albert cleared his throat, shook his head over and over again through the smoke. “I love you so much,” he went on. He was lost, in his own idiotic rambling. He closed his eyes to get lost further. “I want you, selfishly, to myself, to be with me, to let me take care of you. But I know there is a chance you’ll say no. And if that is the case, then I want you to know, that is okay. If that is the case, then I’ll stay. We don’t have to go to California. Not now. We can wait, or stay indefinitely. I’d like to get out of that apartment. It’s too small. So maybe we can lease a bigger place, in the city, or we can buy a place, or buy a cabin outside it. If that is what you want, to stay, then I will stay. I can make that work. But I don’t want you getting shot, or getting hurt anymore, Arthur. It worries me sick. Every time you walk out the door, every time you leave. So if it is the case, that you want to stay, then we need to...talk about that, honestly. Figure something out so that I know, rationally, what to expect. Or else, we can leave. I won’t lie. I want to do this with you. I want to go west, and I did before we met, but more than anything now, I just want to be with you. I want you to come with me, as it is a chance at a new life, privacy. A home. I want you to come with me, Arthur. I want you to let me keep you safe. I will stay. I will do whatever you want, whatever it takes, but know that what I want is for you to leave, with me.”

All around them, the wilderness was breaking into pieces. It was atomizing, becoming all of the same things from the distant places they were born. Albert glanced at Arthur who was staring down at his hands. He always seemed to be doing that, looking down at his hands as if they were the source of all his wisdom, and all his strife. The loons and the coyotes cried distantly, and the stars overhead swam around like little fish in a dark sea.

“Okay,” said Arthur, out of nowhere. He nodded his head, as if resolved.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I want to go with you.” Arthur was looking at him now like it was no big thing, his hair gold from the casual firelight and falling in his face. “When do we leave?”

Listening for this chapter: “Passenger Seat” by Death Cab for Cutie (youtube | spotify)

[spierfics]

Hdjdkd your fics make me so happy oh my gosbhdhe, but i had a silly fic idea. Basically, a spiderman/love, simon au? Doesn't matter which boy is spiderboy? Thank you again, for sharing your writing with us!! Your writing is so sweet!!

Over the Clouds - Spierfeld Fic

If Bram had known taking AP Chemistry would involve getting bitten by a radioactive spider; one which gave him super strength, insane reflexes, a sixth sense and the ability to shoot webs; Bram would have simply taken Physics.

But Bram had gotten used to the craziness by this point. It had been almost two years since the incident occurred, and more than a year since Spider-Man became a public figure.

The first few months were the toughest, especially since he had nobody to talk to. He had been afraid to speak to Garrett after he’d nearly rendered him unconscious with a pass on the field. The soccer ball had hit Garrett so badly that the school needed to call an ambulance.

Bram quit the team that day.

But Garrett wasn’t someone who quit on his friends, showing up at Bram’s home every day to make sure he was alright. Eventually, Bram told him the truth. It wasn’t like he could hide it forever, especially from someone who was as involved in his life as Garrett was.

“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Garrett said in complete awe when he’d first seen what Bram could do.

“Well, I’m still crap at everything,” Bram shrugged. “Not really a hero,”

“You’re not a hero,” Garrett replied. “You’re a fucking superhero,”

“Oh my god, did you read the latest article on Spidey?” Abby squealed, scrolling through her phone frantically.

Simon barely registered what she was saying, having been momentarily distracted. Bram Greenfeld had just entered the cafeteria.

Sure, Simon had been obsessed with the masked vigilante earlier in the year; but he’d given up on the idea of ever meeting him, let alone imagine a romantic scenario with the two of them together.

Simon wanted to focus on someone more real, and the way that adorable boy smiled at him sometimes made Simon forget that anyone else other than Bram existed. His crush on Bram had started a few months back when he and Bram were selected to help show new students around.

There was something about him, an aura, that he had a secret too. A part of himself that he couldn’t share with everyone, but he wanted to. It was something Simon couldn’t shake off, and since that day, Bram Greenfeld had been on his mind.

“Si! That woman he saved from the condo fire the other day, said she heard him up close and he sounded like her son. She said he sounded like a kid, not a man!” Abby nearly yelled, pulling Simon out of his thoughts.

“What’s your point?” Simon said, finally tearing his attention away from the table across from them.

“That he could be our age!” Abby rationalized. “He’s not necessarily a man, he could just be a regular kid like us,”

“What kind of kid would give up his everyday life to go around saving people?” Leah imposed, “You don’t think people around him would figure that out? Like his family? Or his friends?”

“Not if he was good at keeping secrets,” Abby replied back. “Come on, Nick. Back me up,”

“Hiding such a massive part of your identity from everyone you know,” Nick thought carefully. “Nah, that’s impossible,“

Simon tried his best not to roll his eyes.

It was way past midnight when Bram finally arrived home, way past the curfew he’d set for himself on school nights. It had been a quiet day, for the most part, there was one mugging and three cats in trees that were successfully taken care of.

Then there was the robbery, on a local grocery shop near an intersection. Bram had run into some trouble there, but Bram left that guy unconscious and tied up outside the store for the cops to find. So all in all, it ended pretty well.

Bram mentally checked his agenda, recalling that he’d managed to finish his Math homework during lunch, which he ate on a non-operational crane. His acrophobia was quite a battle in those early days of training, but he’d gotten control over his fear now. The sights he’d gotten to see were some of the most beautiful in his life.

Thinking of beautiful things, Bram’s mind casually drifted to one person; Simon Spier. Bram had only spoken to him a few times, through their common friend, but never on an individual basis. Bram wished he had the courage.

He scoffed out loud. Bram swung from building to building on a daily basis. He had run into burning apartments and physically fought men with guns. But nothing scared him more than having a conversation with his crush.

‘This is why there aren’t any teenage heroes,’ Bram thought to himself, flinching as he took off his suit.

Something was wrong.

It’s been a week since Bram had come to school, and although Simon had not-so-casually brought it up in a conversation with his friends, he hadn’t gotten any answers. He built up the courage, or stupidity, to go ask Garrett who always was by Bram’s side.

“Um, hey, Garrett?”

Garrett looked up from his phone, momentarily confused since they’d hardly ever spoken to each other, but then offered Simon a huge smile.

“Spier! How are you?”

Simon hesitated before sitting down opposite Garrett, he was certain that he wasn’t on a last-name basis with Garrett, who often called his team-mates by their last name. 

Regardless, he seemed like he was in a good mood, and Simon realized that Garrett probably didn’t care about why Simon was asking about Bram.

“I was just wondering…” Simon said in a small voice. “I haven’t seen Bram for a bit. Is he okay?”

Garrett eyed Simon suspiciously as if he were trying to analyze his intentions.

Simon cursed himself, knowing that asking would be a mistake, Garrett was going to find out and he’d tell Bram and then the entire school would…

“Bram pulled something on the pitch a few days ago, and it still hasn’t healed up,” Garrett finally offered. “But I’ll let him know you said ‘hi’,”

“Oh no! No, I was just worried because we’re partnered up in this Chemistry project together and I just hadn’t seen him…” Simon trailed off as he got up.

The thing was, both boys were lying to the other. And both of them knew it. Nick had told all of them that Bram had quit the team a while back. And Garrett knew Bram had vowed to never take another Chemistry class again in his life.

Garrett went to visit Bram that afternoon, sitting at his desk as Bram rested in bed. It was tough seeing his friend like this, knowing that he could do nothing to help him other than cheer him up.

A few days back, ‘Spider-Man’ had interrupted a grocery store robbery, and he must have been distracted because he came back home with a gunshot wound in his arm.

Apparently, he’d been feigning illness a little too well, and his mother let him take a few days off of school. Garrett was tasked with bringing Bram his assignments and a bunch of medical supplies.

“It’s looking better,” Garrett said, eyeing the wound.

“Scrapes and cuts heal up fast, but I guess this one was a little deeper,” Bram replied.

“That bullet nearly took your freaking arm off, and you didn’t even realize until you got home,”

“It was the adrenaline,” Bram explained.

“Aren’t your spider-senses supposed to defend you from that sort of stuff,”

“It did,” Bram defended himself. “That bullet was meant for my chest, I moved out of the way,”

“Fine,” Garrett surrendered. “Spier asked about you today,”

Bram immediately sat up in bed, staring at Garrett and urging him to elaborate.

“I don’t know! He was worried that you haven’t shown up all week, and then he wrote it off to some B.S excuse about being science partners or something,”

Bram couldn’t contain his smile, “I guess I’ll be back at school tomorrow,”

“Ok, Romeo. But remember, you can’t let distractions get the best of you,”

“I’ll try,”

He had a feeling this was going to be a good day, considering that Bram was finally back after his mysterious disappearance, and even offered him a smile as he sat down next to Garrett after lunch.

Their entire History class had a field trip together that day, and Simon was particularly excited since he and Bram were the only ones who knew each other in that class.

The bus ride wasn’t filled with too much entertainment, but somehow he’d found the courage to offer his seat to Bram, who kindly accepted. Bram was so easy to talk to, once they got past the initial shyness, the conversation flowed easily.

By the time they got to the museum, Simon felt like they were inseparable.

“Hey Bram, I think we’re going to head to the café in about twenty minutes…” Simon began but could see that Bram’s expression had suddenly changed.

“Did you feel that?” Bram asked looking around at nothing in particular.

“No,” Simon replied.

“Si, you need to get out of this building. Take as many people as you can with you, okay!” Bram said in a frantic tone.

Simon was momentarily frozen, not knowing whether he should focus on the random change in Bram’s demeanour, the weight of his words or the nickname that Bram had so effortlessly used.

Simon could barely catch his breath, racing out of the building and holding on to Bram’s hand. He didn’t know how Bram was running that fast, but before he knew it they were out of the building.

“It looks like Mr. Sykes got the class out,” Bram commented, counting the number of their classmates.

“What was that,” Simon asked, his voice shaking.

“I don’t know,” Bram answered, keeping his gaze on the upper floors of the museum. “You should join everyone,”

“What about you?” Simon asked, wondering why Bram seemed so preoccupied at a time like this.

“I’ll join you in a second. I’m going to look for some staff members and talk to them,”

“Why? Did you see something,”

“Yeah, I think I did,”

Bram found an abandoned corner of the building, which housed industrial-sized garbage containers. A perfect cover, and within moments Bram was suited up.

He walked back a few steps before slinging a web to the top of the building. He was sure there would be an entrance up there.

Surely enough, there was and as Bram carefully stepped into the building, he could hear voices. There were four men, definitely armed and Bram planned the entire fight out.

Within seconds, he climbed up on the ceiling, taking advantage of the one who was a lookout and knocking him out cold.

One seemed to be focused on a large piece of artillery, something that could have caused the explosion, while the other two seemed to be looking at blueprints. Bram decided to go after the two, knocking their heads together in one go.

The last one turned around in a panicked state and fired his handgun at Bram. He managed to dodge them without much effort and managed to swing the gun right out of his hands. Another web pulled the final criminal towards him, and Bram used the leverage to kick him down into unconsciousness.

Tying up the criminals was always the most difficult part, as Bram always worried one would wake up and move around, but the four of them were wrapped around a pillar within ten minutes.

Bram shook his head, why couldn’t he have one day off.

Next, Bram checked the main floors for anyone who wasn’t in the building and then exited the museum.  He took a moment to address everyone in the crowd, ensuring them that they were all safe, and he’d taken care of those who were involved in the crime.

“Please let the authorities know that they’ll find the four men in the northwest section of the enclave in the upper level. They’ve been disarmed and the artillery is military-grade. If anyone’s in serious need of medical attention, I can get them to a hospital right now,”

“We’re missing people!” Mr. Sykes called out to him, and Bram panicked before remembering he was a student too.

“How many people?” Bram asked, trying to deepen his voice.

“Two of my students. Bram Greenfeld and Simon Spier,”

“Simon?”

“Yes, and Abraham Greenfeld. According to some of my kids, Simon went to look for his friend,”

“And you let him?!” Bram yelled but caught himself in time before he went too far. “Sorry, I’ll go look for the two of them, just please keep everyone else safe,”

Mr. Sykes nodded, slightly backing away in fear.

Simon knew that sneaking into the building wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he couldn’t imagine leaving Bram in that type of danger. Currently, he was stuck in an elevator, which had stopped working halfway through.

The lights were flickering on and off, and Simon was sure he’d heard gunshots. It was only a matter of time before someone found him, and it could mean either rescue or something worse.

It felt like forever before he heard another sound, and Simon wasn’t sure if he was imagining those sounds. Someone was calling his name, and he was ninety percent sure any criminals wouldn’t be on a first-name basis with him.

“Simon! Are you here?”

For some reason, Simon thought he recognized that voice, so he shouted back: “Bram! I’m in here!”

The elevator doors began creaking, and Simon knew there was no earthly way Bram could open those with his bare hands. And he was correct because it wasn’t Bram.

“Spider-Man?”

“Hey, are you alright?”

Simon felt like that the masked vigilante sounded eerily similar to Bram, but blamed it on the frantic situation he was in.

“Y-Yeah. I’m okay,” Simon stuttered. “Are you alright?”

Spider-Man seemed to be confused, and paused before saying, “Nobody’s ever asked me that before,”

Simon couldn’t see it, but he was sure that the guy beneath the mask was smiling at him.

“I’m gonna step into the elevator okay? And then I’m going to help you out. This elevator is stuck between two floors, so there’s a bit of a drop, but you’re gonna be safe, understand?”

“Got it,”

“Okay. I’m stepping in now,”

Spider-Man took a step inside and Simon could feel the structure shake beneath him; the hero beside him could clearly feel it too. Spider-Man carefully opened the hatch above them and seemed to be measuring the space mentally.

Then he offered his hand to Simon, who took it slowly.

“Just hold on as tight as you can, okay. And don’t look down,”

Simon wrapped one arm around his shoulder and the other around his neck, holding on as tight as possible. In a flash, Spidey shot a web up and Simon could feel himself being yanked upwards. He closed his eyes shut, but the sound of the crash was unmistakable. That could have been him.

When he felt his feet on solid ground, Simon finally opened up his eyes. He was clearly high up, higher than he’d ever been before. Looking down at the crowd below, he realized he was on the roof of the building.

“You’re okay,” Spider-Man offered him some comfort.

“Did you find Bram?”

The masked hero waited a moment before responding. “Bram?”

“He’s my…” Simon paused. “He’s my friend, the one I went back in looking for,”

“I wouldn’t advise doing that in the future,” the disguised hero replied sternly. “There was nobody else in the building, but I’ll keep an eye out for him,”

“Okay. Thanks for saving me and everything,” Simon said to him casually, “let me know if there’s any way I can pay you back.”

Simon was certain he had just made Spider-Man laugh, and he could definitely put that down on his bucket list.

After dropping off Simon with the crowd, Bram changed back into his regular clothes within a matter of minutes and raced back around the building.

“Bram!” Simon said, as soon as he saw him, running up and wrapping his arms around him in a hug. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine. I went looking for you,”

“So did I,” Simon replied. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bram nodded. “Are you?”

“Yeah, got into a little bit of trouble, but I got out of it just fine. Met Spider-Man,” Simon shrugged, sporting a shy smile.

“Oh?” Bram returned his smile.

“He’s not all that he’s hyped up to be,” Simon replied jokingly.

Arriving home, his mother greeted with a tight hug, refusing to let him go for a number of minutes. 

‘If only she knew’ Bram thought to himself. 

As the day turned into night, Bram went over the day’s events in his mind. He had an urge to swing on by to Simon’s house, in full costume, knowing that it was probably the dumbest thing he could ever do. Maybe this was why crushes and heroism didn’t mix well together, but Bram had to remember he was a teenager, and priorities were always muddled.

He paced around back and forth in his room, putting the mask on and off wondering who would impress Simon more. He knew the obvious answer was Spidey, but Bram had a feeling that he and Simon had gotten off considerably well throughout the day. Simon had actually gone looking for him, and that had to mean something.

He almost missed the knock on his door, and barely had time to shove the mask under his bed.

“Honey?” Bram’s mom opened the door an inch. “There’s someone here to see you?”

“Garrett?”

“Nope,” Bram’s mom replied mysteriously.

Bram walked down the stairs and was pleasantly surprised to see Simon in his foyer.

“Si?” Bram said, walking up to him, face riddled with confusion. 

“Hey, Bram. I-I wanted to see how you were doing, after today,” Simon shuffled in place.

“We can step outside,” Bram offered, wondering if Simon wanted to talk alone.

They sat together on their front porch, and Simon tried to keep his breathing under control. He had no idea how he’d built up the courage to do this, but he knew he had to.

If his experience today had taught him anything, it was that nothing was promised, not even the next moment. Today could have ended very differently for him, for Bram, and for everyone there. And he knew that someone wouldn’t always be there to save them.

He needed to let Bram know the truth.

“I like you,” Simon blurted out as soon as they sat down.

“What?”

“I know that sounds fucking weird to hear, and I don’t even know if you like guys, or let alone like me…but I could have died today and I realized that I couldn’t let a day go by without letting you know that…”

“Si?” Bram interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I like you too. A lot,” Bram replied.

“Oh?”

“And if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to kiss you,”

“That’s more than okay,”

Bram carefully leaned in to close the distance, closing his eyes in time. He felt the gentlest movement against his mouth and Bram felt his heart skip a beat. Simon was kissing him back.

Bram wanted to stay in this moment for as long as he could, but he knew that this one act was going to change everything. This was going to be another person who he’d either be keeping a secret from, or to whom he’d be confessing a heavy truth. This was someone who’s safety could be used against him. Someone with whom he would fall in love.

But Bram pushed away those intrusive thoughts, giving his all to the kiss. At that moment, he decided, nothing else was going to matter. No bad guys, no overbearing stress, not his secret identity; nobody existed outside of the bubble of himself and the boy in his arms.

There would come a time where he’d have to trust Simon with everything, and Bram had an inkling it would turn out fine. After all, Simon owed him one.